


I Wouldn't Change a Thing

by flowersinthebackyard



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersinthebackyard/pseuds/flowersinthebackyard
Summary: Upon first glance, Gail Greene appears to have it all: Beauty, confidence and a nifty job as Brian Epstein's secretary. However, she secretly longs for something more and finds herself becoming attracted to a certain Beatle.~~Set in 1965~~





	1. The Boys

Every morning starts out more or less the same. I wake up at the crack of dawn, scarf down my coffee and then take the taxi to work. The trip from my flat to EMI studios is always a bit drab. In typical London fashion, the weather tends to be cloudy and rainy. I often take advantage of my time in the cab to write a little. Alas, today, as I stared down at my notebook, nothing was coming to me. Inspiration has been running rather low for me lately and the dreary atmosphere was not helping.

I work for a man named Brian Epstein. He is a rather pleasant fellow with kind eyes and a warm smile, though he is stern when he needs to be. He manages a band called The Beatles, maybe you've heard of them. There's John, the rhythm guitarist, Paul, the bassist, George, the lead guitarist, and Ringo on drums.

Life with the boys is definitely interesting. I call them "the boys" because there's truly no other way to describe them. They're rowdy, rambunctious, obnoxious and crude, not to mention very flirtatious. Still, I can't say their extreme popularity comes from nowhere. They are, not only unbelievably talented, but each very charming in their own unique way.

John, who you could call the de facto leader of the group, has a very dark, mysterious vibe to him. Though he has the habit of behaving the most inappropriately out of the four, he has a softer side that occasionally comes out. True to his quick-witted public persona, John is known for his wisecracks and his sarcastic demeanor. And while this aspect to his personality does admittedly get a chuckle out of me every once in a while, I find myself most drawn to his complex, artistic persona.

While John was generally seen as the crux of the gang, I could see that Paul was quickly catching up and proving he could hold his own quite easily as a musician. He is arguably the most gifted structurally and instrumentally at what he does. Indeed, he takes the band and his music very seriously, much to the annoyance of everyone else. In spite of his stern approach to writing songs, he has a very cute, boyish way about him.

Though George is the youngest, he certainly shows a maturity that is well beyond his years. Usually sitting quietly in the background, he has a sharp tongue like John but he knows when to contain it. He is also pretty musically gifted in his own right, but you can tell that he holds back for the sake of both John and Paul, who are intertwined in a very one-of-a-kind way in regards to their songwriting.

In contrast with the others, Ringo is the friendliest and relatively the most mild-mannered. In the midst of all their incredible fame, it's nice to know that at least one of them is genuinely humble. Growing up as an only child, he's the closest thing to what I imagine an older brother figure to be. And when the time called for it, he could personate the same role for all of his band mates.

Now, at this point, I know what you must be wondering: am I romantically involved with any of the Beatles? While I'm sure the thought of hooking up with one of them would positively thrill any other woman in my position, I have to say that I'm personally not that interested. For, you see, I have a boyfriend, and I am devoted to that. He treats me well, and it's certainly not worth losing over a one-time fling with a flighty Fab Four member.

That being said, I wouldn't be totally honest if I said I wasn't attracted to any of them. If, and only if, I wasn't already taken, I may have considered courting them. In fact, there is one in particular who has ever so subtly caught my eye, Paul.

However, I'm not about to let myself get swept away by an insignificant feeling. Today is an ordinary day at my ordinary job and I plan to keep things as ordinary as possible. First order of ordinary business: signing in for the day. I carefully write my name on the dotted line. _Abigail Genevieve Greene_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! And thank you for taking the time to read this story! This is my first multi-parter and also my first time fiddling around with first-person. I'm not the biggest fan of first-person because it's hard to write well from that perspective and it's hard to know which tense to use, but I like to experiment! I'm writing this for fun and not for tons of votes or reads, so you guys enjoying this is just icing on the cake for me. Cheers! ♥♥♥


	2. The Boys and their Birds

After signing in, I made my way through the doors and into the corridors. Unfortunately, to get to my office, you inevitably have to pass the studio in which the boys rehearse. I always try to go in and out of there as quickly as possible, for obvious reasons. However, because of my line of work, I find myself going in and out of there a good 10-15 times a day. They always need me to prepare them tea or a light snack, things they can't seem to do for themselves. I often feel more to them like a mom than a secretary.

Try as I might to flash by unseen, it always seems to backfire. It's as if they keep time or can just sense the moment I enter the building. Everyday, as if on cue, I'm always met with the same greeting.

"ABBIE!" John exclaimed with delight. I generally prefer to go by Gail, but when it came to John I didn't mind so much. I knew he did it to get under my skin, so I could only smile and shake my head at it. Today, however, I really wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

I looked up and forced my lips to curl upward as I nodded at them in acknowledgement. 

"Hi, John," I muttered, immediately looking back down.

John shook his head slightly, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're holding back on us, Greene! You're so uptight all the time I'm beginning to think you don't actually like us!" 

"That's not true..." I retorted, my voice low and tinged with guilt. Even though I knew he was just teasing, it was still a bit irritating how they just assumed everyone loved them.

"Don't be a prick, John, she's probably just not a morning person!" I heard George say. 

"No, George, you git! She hangs around us all day and yet she makes a point to interact with us as bloody damn little as possible!"

"We're going on an outing for a photoshoot today, Gail. Would you like to come along?" Ringo offered jovially, somehow immune to the bickering by now. 

I smiled at him hesitantly but politely, "I'm...really busy today. Brian's got a lot of work stacked up for me at the office."

"Gonna spend the whole day phoning that boyfriend of yours?" John cracked with a knowing smirk. 

I struggled to maintain my composure as my face went hot and my hands tightened into fists. They were all aware I was taken and, for the most part, they respected this. Usually I was able to let any off-hand comments roll right off my back, but I couldn't handle them when they got all nosy and snippy like this. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to lock myself up in my office for the rest of the day. 

"John, cut it out! How would you like it if someone was poking around in your business all day?" George countered. 

John's eyes narrowed in mischief, "Well, if they looked anything like her..." his voice trailed off.

I scoffed and growled, my hands now on my hips. After all the commotion that ensued in just a couple of minutes, I had just about had enough. I was about to leave the room without another word when suddenly...

"Uh, pardon me, Gail..." a soft, melodious voice uttered.

My heart stopped. As much as I hate to admit it, he was the main reason why I didn't spend more time with the boys. Like I said, for the most part, they respected the fact that I had a boyfriend. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to take any chances. Especially not with the doe-eyed bassist who was notoriously slick. 

I slowly turned around, trying desperately hard to hide my flush of excitement and remain stoic, "Yes, Paul?"

"Make me a cuppa?" he requested with a sly tone and a stony look in his eye. 

My heart sank as I sighed and went to work. It wasn't even noon and my head was already swirling, both from guilt that John noticed I was avoiding them and disappointment that Paul didn't say anything to defend or reassure me. 

In truth, I was most bothered by the fact that John already had me so well figured out. I was actually on my way to phone my boyfriend, just as he assumed, before he stopped me. And boy, did that idea sound wonderful to me right then.

***

Steering clear of the boys honestly wasn't just for my sake. It's a well-known fact all four Beatles are taken as well.

When I first learned John was married with a kid, I was shocked. He's probably the most shameless flirt of them all, and every other day I see or hear about a new bird with him. I did manage to see Cynthia with him on just a couple occasions. She seemed nice, but also extremely weary. And given the circumstances, I couldn't really blame her. She also came off very timid, usually only saying a couple words at a time, which made me think she was someone that John easily walked all over.

Like John, Ringo is also married. Maureen, I thought, was a tad bit young for him, but they still seem like a good match; certainly healthier than whatever John and Cynthia have. She comes around more often and we've even spoken a few times. There's a certain grounded yet slightly fanatical nature in the way she talked about him, which I find rather cute. 

George's girlfriend, Pattie, is one of the most beautiful birds I think I've ever seen; a total knock-out. Naturally, she's a famous model. They have a tendency to hang outside the studio premises, more often than not, but I'm still always blown away whenever I get the chance to catch a glimpse of her. 

Paul, of course, is dating the gorgeous, red-headed actress, Jane Asher. Jane doesn't like me, I can tell. Normally, she's all smiles with everyone. A bit of a charmer in the same way Paul is, with a silky, delicate voice and a sweet disposition. But when our eyes happened to meet one night as I was serving Paul another cup of tea, she gave me a very stern look. 

Perhaps she was threatened by me, or perhaps she was merely insecure at the fact that her relationship was slowly unraveling in front of my eyes. Although, if Paul's recent song he wrote is any indication, he seems willing to work it out. 

In any case, I knew from then on not to mess with her. It's not as if I'm unable to hold my own among a group of birds, but I honestly have no intention of coming between Paul and Jane. Besides, with Issac and I coming on two years, we're well on our way to becoming betrothed.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the day's early events and emotions to the back of my mind and dialed his number.


	3. Nowhere Bird

Issac is currently living in Birmingham on business, so we communicate primarily by phone. He's in finance, which my dad likes.

"How've you been holding up, love?" he asked me.

I sighed softly, "I'm doing the best I can..."

"You sound stressed, love, are you doing alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"I'm fine," I replied. Issac is a bit older than me; he's 28, I'm 22. As such, he has a tendency to baby me.

"You know I don't like you hanging around those Beatles..." he remarked sourly.

"Yes, I know," I sighed again despondently, reminded of my earlier encounter with them.

"I'm serious," Issac persisted. "I don't want you getting involved in any of their bollocks! Their professional affairs are even messier than their hairstyles! Those boys attract trouble like a magnet, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," I answered absentmindedly; I knew the drill by now.

"Good. Pretty soon your little stint with them will be over, anyway. Then, you can come live with me and we'll build a life together in Birmingham. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I winced, "That...sounds amazing," I said slowly, trying to convince myself.

The truth is that I like living in London, dreary weather notwithstanding. There's so much more going on here and I like having my own flat. Issac is pleasant company, he and I get on well enough, but I enjoy living by my own rules. For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat independent. Alas, as long as my dad is in control, true freedom never fully feels within my reach.

***

With today's phone call not going as planned, I was feeling more drained than ever. The last thing I wanted to do was pass by the studio again. When I came out of my office, I saw that only John was there. He was humming and plucking at his guitar. I never know quite how to react when one or more of them is deep into their songwriting. Surely, I didn't want to interrupt a mastermind at work.

Suddenly, the song switched keys and he began to sing quietly:

_He's a real nowhere man_   
_Sitting in his nowhere land_   
_Making all his nowhere plans for nobody_

_Doesn't have a point of view_

_Knows not where he's going to_   
_Isn't he a bit like you and me?_   
_Nowhere man please listen_   
_You don't know what you're missing_   
_Nowhere man, the world is at your command_

_He's as blind as he can be_

_Just sees what he wants to see_   
_Nowhere man, can you see me at all_   
_Nowhere man don't worry_   
_Take your time, don't hurry_   
_Leave it all till somebody else_   
_Lends you a hand . . ._

 

Then, the guitar strumming trailed off as his signature, drone-like voice came to an abrupt stop. He looked up, turned his head to my direction and smiled at me.

"Did you like it?" he asked eagerly.

I nodded in slight awe, "It was nice. Who was it about?"

John chuckled, "The Nowhere Man!"

I smirked and shook my head, "I know that, but who is he supposed to be?"

John waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, he's whoever you want him to be!"

I pondered this for a moment. The song sounded pretty personal, as if it were about him. Then again, some of these lyrics sounded like they could apply to anybody.

"I can kind of relate..." I said uncertainly.

John raised an eyebrow and looked straight at me, "Oh?"

I nodded in affirmation, "Sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere in life. Except instead of making plans for nobody, I go along with what everyone else wants..."

John smirked, "I never pegged Abbie Greene, the bright individualist, as just another people-pleaser!"

I shrugged, "Well, what can I do? There are some things you just..." I paused hesitantly, "can't control..."

"That's not true! The power lies within you, Abbie! Tell me, what is it that you really want to do?"

I sighed in resignation, "...I don't really want to be a secretary. My dad just wants me to be a well-behaved lady, taking calls and stacking papers, just as I'm supposed to do."

John nodded, "Hm, but what is it you _really_ want?"

"I want to be a writer," I confessed, looking down almost shamefully.

John's eyes widened, "A writer!? Abbie, that's amazing! I _love_ writing! I just published my second book!"

I nodded with a slight chuckle, "I know, but there's no career for me in that..."

"What are you talking about!? That's complete bullocks, Abbie! Do you know how many times I was told my music career would go nowhere? Look at me now!" he sneered and shook his guitar comically.

I laughed, "But that's different, John, your kind of talent only comes around once every thousand years. Me? I'm not special..."

John shook his head vigorously, "Poppy cock! You're one in a million!"

I smiled. I was definitely grateful for this softer side of John, as opposed to the snippy John I was dealing with earlier.

"Do you love him?" he asked solemnly.

"My dad..?" I guessed, confused by his sudden change in tone.

"Your boyfriend," he stated.

"Of course I do!" I snapped defensively. "He's sweet, loving and I'm devoted to him!"

"Hm," John uttered, clearly unconvinced.

Admittedly, the question caught me a tad bit off guard. I knew my dad liked Issac; he liked the fact that he could support and provide for me. I have the feeling he pushed me towards him because they're both so much alike. Naturally, my dad needed to know I was with someone who would keep a close, hawkish eye on me at all times.

Lightening the mood a bit, John beamed and shook his head. "Well, regardless of why you're here, Abbie, I'm glad that you are. We don't normally care much for birds in our studio but you're different. You're a great girl and you make a mean cuppa! You just gotta let your guard down more often. You don't have to be scared around me, I don't bite!" he bore his teeth devilishly as he bit the air.

I giggled heartily in response, the most carefree and comfortable I had felt around John in a while.

"Unless you want me to!" he added with a wink.

I smirked and shook my head once more, "You know, I gotta admit, I'm happy we got to have this chat!"

"Yeah, I know! Abbie Greene, opening up, what a novel concept!" he chortled.

I raised an eyebrow, narrowing my eyes, "I could say the same thing about you, John Lennon..."

A pleasant silence filled the air for a moment, when all of a sudden Ringo came bursting through the door.

"John, we're getting ready to leave for the photoshoot! Gail, if you changed your mind about coming with us, the invitation is still open!"

John and I exchanged glances. Now that we were on friendlier terms, a breezy outing didn't seem like such a bad idea.

I smiled brightly, "Sure, why not!?"


	4. Photograph

Before I knew it, I was in the middle of all the hustle and bustle with the boys leaving. Everyone was moving things back and forth and getting ready. The first person I ran into was George. Once we locked eyes, I was met with a toothy grin.

"John bullied you into coming, eh?" he slyly remarked.

I smiled at him and shook my head, "Nah, we made up. We're friends now!"

Just then, Brian appeared carrying a bunch of film equipment in boxes. "Oh, Gail! You're coming with us? That's good, we need all the extra help we can get! Here, take these..." he handed me the boxes and shot past us.

George looked over at me and chuckled, "You need me to carry those?"

I looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Thanks," I mumbled gratefully.

As everything and everyone began to move outside, I realized just how hectic these events could get. I was shoved and pushed a lot until I was finally able to exit the premises. As soon as I stepped out the door, I found myself face to face with Paul.

He immediately raised his eyebrows in shock as soon as he saw me, "Oh, hello Gail..."

On cue, my heart began racing. I could feel his eye contact pierce through my soul as mere moments felt like hours. Before my lips even got the chance to form a hello, we were interrupted by a couple of roadies coming between us. I could then see that one of them was Mal Evans, personal assistant and old friend of the Beatles.

His eyes widened in surprise as he chortled, "Gail, hi! I don't think I've ever seen you outside the office!" he ruffled my hair playfully as he walked past.

I looked over for Paul, but he was already gone, leaving me crestfallen. I saw that everyone was piling into cars; this being my first outing, I didn't know which one to board.

Thankfully, Brian popped up behind me and eased my growing nerves. "Why don't you go in the dark blue one, with the boys..."

I smiled appreciatively at him and nodded. At least I would be with familiar people, including one in particular. I walked over to the car when they all spotted me and howled with excitement. Neil Aspinall, the driver and another old friend of the Beatles, beamed at me and opened the door.

"Gail! Fancy seeing you here!" he noted as his eyes twinkled in my direction.

I looked down and bit my lip anxiously. Was everyone going to point out how strange it was that I was actually out and about?

Neil chuckled as he eyed me up and down, "Well, what are you waiting for!? Come on in, m'lady!"

The boys proceeded to howl even louder in the back at his line, though I noticed Paul remained silent.

"Playing Casanova now, are we, Neil?" he asked dryly.

Feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, I hesitantly slipped in the front seat next to Neil, wishing I could be in the back seat with the rest of them. Neil was a good looking guy, I suppose, but he wasn't my type.

Soon enough, all the cars started and we were all on our way to the park for the photoshoot. As he drove, Neil took the opportunity to ask me a couple questions.

"So, tell me about yourself, Gail. What is it that you like to do?"

"Just wait'll you hear this, Neil, Abbie here is gonna be the next Hemingway!" John remarked enthusiastically.

My face flushed as I looked down nervously. While his flattery was sweet, it bothered me a little that John was answering for me.

Neil's eyes widened in intrigue, "Hemingway, huh? So, you like to write?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's the _only_ thing I like to do," I lied. "Who knows, I may go back to school to study psychology!"

"Psychology?" George repeated with the raise of an eyebrow. "Maybe you can figure out what's wrong with 'ol Johnny's head!" This time, all four of them erupted in uproarious laughter.

***

Once we got to our destination, everyone quickly assumed their roles and set everything up. One thing I immediately noticed was the increasing amount of screaming prepubescent fans forming around the perimeter of the park. Though I felt a bit uneasy, I knew the rest of the crew here were pros and knew how to handle it.

Brian was mindful to keep me working around the boys, straightening their ties and lightly powdering their faces. Knowing a fair bit about makeup myself, I tried to compare the shades against my own natural skin tone in order to get the best blend for each Beatle.

Using the small mirror I had in my purse, I ran a hand through my light reddish brown hair and exposed my hazel-green eyes and copiously freckled face.

"You know, you have a really striking look, Gail, where are you from?" Ringo asked, his bright blue eyes filled with curiosity.

I beamed sweetly in response, "I'm half-Irish on my dad's side!"

"Irish!?" John piped up. "The similarities just never bloody stop, do they!? Why, did you know Liverpool is the second capital of Ireland!? We all got a little Irish in us..." John then devolved into an Irish drawl, babbling nonsense, which caused both George and Ringo on either side of him to snicker. Once again, I couldn't help but smile and shake my head at John's tomfoolery.

"Yeah, we could all be cousins!" George added, tearing up from the laughter.

"I'm also part French, hence, why my middle name is Genevieve." I further explained.

John's face took on a slightly more serious expression as he raised an eyebrow, "French, eh? Hey, you're writing a soppy French tune for this album, ain't ye, Macca!?" he beckoned to his co-writing bandmate.

"Mm," Paul uttered. He was standing and looking away from us, combing his hair, deep in his thoughts.

Much to my dismay, in spite of the photoshoot allowing me to work in closer quarters with the boys, which enabled me to develop a more intimate bond with them, Paul still wasn't giving me much to work with. He was acting very aloof and would avoid all eye contact with me.

"Uh, earth to Macca!" John hollered. "Would you stop fixating on your pretty-boy hairstyle for one second and come talk to me!?"

Paul glanced at John with a faint smirk, chuckling softly, "Sod off!"

***

Today's pictures were for the new Rubber Soul album, and as such, the boys were changing clothes frequently. I had the very lucky job of handing them whatever garments they needed at the time. At one point, John, Paul, George and Ringo were all in their shorts and shirtless.

I was admittedly stealing a few glimpses at the boys, admiring their toned, healthy figures, perhaps not paying as much attention to what I needed to do as I should have.

John looked up and caught me looking, "You like what you see, love?" he winked and smirked flirtatiously.

I blushed, I really needed to behave.

Snapping myself out of my gaze, when I turned around to pick up the new clothes, I saw that they weren't there. Instantly, I began to panic.

 _Shit._ I thought. _Where could they be?_

Suddenly, I heard a girlish giggle. When I looked up, I saw three fangirls flouncing around the garbs, mocking me.

 _"SHIT!"_ I now said more audibly. I tried to run after them, but they were much younger and faster than me and they escaped with the clothes.

"What's happening?" Ringo asked, covering his chest in concern and modesty.

"By Jove, those girls took our clothes!" Paul exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"To hell, they did!" John raged as he started chasing after the ecstatic fans.

Brian quickly caught wind of all the commotion and saw the boys, his face turning a deep red. "What the _HELL_ is going on!?" he screamed. He turned to me, "I thought you were supposed to be in charge of the boys' attire!?"

"I'm sorry, I tried to go after them but I just couldn't catch up..." I said. I was close to crying, knowing I had miserably failed my only job.

Brian closed his eyes and rubbed his nose in distress, "It's okay...just...go keep an eye on the boys! I'll take care of this..."

I nodded and left him be. I caught up with the foursome as John was still having at it with the girls.

"Quit squabbling with 'em, Johnny, it don't look right in your skivvies!" George commented, looking vaguely amused.

John narrowed his eyes and pouted, "Fine, I give up! Just take everything, will ya!?" he began to take off his shorts when I stopped him.

"John, no!" I exclaimed, horrified. "Alright, let's all just calm down!"

With that, everyone took a deep breath. The tranquility didn't last long, however, as we soon began to feel flashes of light on us. When we turned around, we saw a bevy of photographers taking photos of us.

"Oh, bugger!" John cried. "Run!"

As we all began running, the mood began to lighten a bit.

George smirked, "Ringo, you need to work out a bit more, you're jiggling!"

"Am not!" Ringo retorted, his hands still firmly placed over his chest.

We all laughed, and suddenly I realized what I had been missing out on all this time by not hanging out with the boys. Sure, they were silly and immature, but also lots of _fun_.

After a few minutes running roundabout the park, we paused behind a large tree for a moment to catch our breath. "So, what do you think? Think this'll make it onto the album cover?" Ringo asked in a tone that almost sounded serious.

"What do you think, Abbie? Are our bods fit enough to satisfy our lady fans?" John asked teasingly as he made a few mock poses.

I smirked and shook my head, "I think your fans are paying for an album, not a strip tease..."

"Ah, to hell with you!" John snapped. "What do you think, Macca? Is my body good enough?" he batted his eyelashes pseudo-seductively.

Paul looked down, which even I found strange. Usually he was quick to fire back with some equally biting remark.

John's brazen demeanor turned to concern at his quiet friend and bandmate, "What's the matter, Paulie, cat got your tongue?" he casually poked his stomach.

Still looking down, Paul responded, "I'm fine, I just...hope we get our clothes soon, that's all."

As if the angels above had heard him, Mal Evans came strolling in with new clothes for everybody, the sneering grin on his face apparent.

"You guys looked a little cold, so I brought you these..." he said.

"Oh, sod off, Mal!" John cracked.

***

On the way back, I turned to face the boys in the back seat. "I'm sorry about today, guys, I really fucked things up, didn't I..?" I stated with a slight chuckle, traces of guilt and embarrassment showing up on my face.

"Nah, we had fun! Definitely one of our more memorable photoshoots..." George said as he smiled broadly.

"Yeah, it wasn't your fault, Gail," Ringo reassured me.

"Are you kidding!? We had a blast! You made the whole thing so much better!" John concurred.

"Yeah, Gail, I'm definitely glad you came..." Paul said with a faint, hesitant smile. I was gobsmacked. This was the most I had gotten from him all day.

***

Later that night, I came out of my office, tears streaming down my red, puffy face. Ringo saw me and immediately scampered over.

"Gail, what's wrong, dear!?" he asked.

I looked up at him with watery eyes, "Issac broke up with me..."


	5. Broken Wings

Issac had seen the pictures of the boys, clothed as well as unclothed, taken by the paparazzi. Unfortunately for me, I happened to be in more than a few of the unclothed pictures.

I surprisingly didn't get fired for this little incident. Brian had pulled me aside to discuss what happened. He told me he had thought about letting me go but...

_"...The boys, they like you. They genuinely like you. And I saw how you were hitting it off with them before everything went haywire..."_

This somehow didn't make me feel any better; I felt like I was getting a pass just because I'm a pretty girl. Alas, I wasn't able to get a pass from Issac.

 _"I thought I made myself perfectly clear, Gail. I specifically stated I didn't want you frolicking about with those Beatles and then today I see your face plastered next to the boys, half-naked, on some rag!"_ he had wailed.

 _"This is it, Gail, we're through..."_ he had said calmly.

As he spoke these words to me over the phone, I felt an intense crushing sensation in my heart. I understood why he was upset, but it didn't make his rash decision to call us off hurt any less. Everything I had built up with him over the past two years was now gone in a flash.

My dad gave me even less of a break. Seemingly, as soon as I had just gotten done talking to Issac, the phone rang again. With slight trepidation, I answered it.

 _"Hello..?"_ I began hesitantly.

 _"Gail, how fucking could you!?"_ I heard him bellow on the other end. I gulped, my worst fears realized.

_"I had planned everything out for you! You were going to live with a well-off man in a nice home in Birmingham but you fucked it all up, you ungrateful bitch!"_

All I could do was sob and plead for his forgiveness, just as I had always done.

***

As I sank in my chair, the next morning, only one question was burning through my mind: _What am I supposed to do now?_

I decided to get out of my cramped office in favor of some fresh air. I didn't get very far, however, before running into Neil...

"Oh, hey, Gail!" Neil raised his eyebrows and greeted me with a suspicious smile and cheerfulness to his tone.

I looked down despondently, "Hey..."

Neil promptly lowered his spirits to match mine, "I...heard about what happened with your boyfriend..."

 _Oh? And how is this any of your business?_ I thought. But I couldn't find the energy to say anything in response, so I continued to look down.

"I'm just saying," he continued, his hand now lightly grazing my shoulder. "If you need anyone to comfort you and keep you company, I'm available..." a sneaky smirk appeared on his face as he said this.

I immediately pulled away, disgusted. "How _dare_ you!? I just got dumped and now you're taking advantage of me!? You're a low-life scoundrel!"

***

Discernibly heated, I stormed off. I was so inflamed with rage and devastation that I didn't see John approaching in my direction.

As we brushed up against each other, I felt his hand gently touch the same place that Neil had just rubbed with his own hand.

"Abbie, hey! Ringo told me what happened and I..."

At that moment, I snapped. It was inappropriate and infuriating enough that Neil had hit on me knowing I was vulnerable, now John was going to try to come on to me too!?

"Get _off_ me!!!" I screamed. I then ran as far away from everyone as I could get, crying hysterically.

"I JUST WANTED TO ASK IF SHE WAS BLOODY ALRIGHT!!!" I heard John shout angrily.

"Does she bloody look alright!?" George fired back.

***

Later that day, after I managed to calm down some, I went back into my office. As I passed by the studio, I saw all the boys and their birds hanging out with them. Great. Just what I needed -- a show of the Fab Four and their Fab Gals, happily coupled up and in love.

However, upon closer inspection, I saw that they weren't actually looking too happy. John shot a stern glance at me, obviously mad that I had undeservedly lashed out on him earlier. Cynthia, sitting next to him, looked hopeless and beat with the characteristic dead look in her eyes. George and Pattie had their own eyes closed in anguish, trying their hardest to shut out the rest of the world. Paul was looking especially miserable; Jane looked visibly unhappy with him and kept sending daggers his way. It felt as though she noticed me for a split second, but it very well could have been in my imagination.

Maureen and Ringo seemed to be the only ones in a relatively good mood.

"Hi, Gail!" Maureen greeted me with a warm, friendly smile.

"Hi..." I replied feebly, feeling awkward and unsure of how to proceed. Seeing as most everyone seemed to be having an awful day, I decided it was best to quickly get myself out of there and seclude in my office.

***

When I crawled back out that night, I saw that the place had been trashed. I guess the boys and their birds managed to get out of their funk and have a little fun after all. There were empty liquor bottles everywhere and the room wreaked of alcohol. Sighing, I resigned to my work and began to clean up after them.

A few moments later, I heard the door crack open and saw that Paul and Jane had come back. In panic, I hastily hid behind my office door.

Paul appeared to still be a bit intoxicated. He giggled giddily and placed a finger on Jane's lips.

"Come on, Jane, let's make out!" he requested excitedly.

"No, Paul," she replied firmly.

Paul's face instantly fell to a boyish pout, "Aw, come on! It feels like we haven't shagged in weeks!"

Jane shook her head, "I have to get some rest, Paul. I leave for my next film tomorrow morning..."

Paul sulked, "Just once, can't you skip a film and stay with me..?"

"Acting is my passion, Paul, and it's my job. I never ask you to skip out on an album!" Jane retorted.

Paul looked sullen for a second, but then suddenly perked up, "Jane, have you ever thought about going blonde? You'd look just like Brigitte Bardot!"

Jane rolled her eyes and sighed as if she had heard this before, "Goodnight, Paul..."

Paul's eyes twinkled with hurt, "Goodnight, Jane..."

***

I waited until they had both left the room and were out of sight. My head was still spinning from the past couple days' events and I wasn't sure what to make of it all. All I knew was that I desperately needed some sleep...


	6. Tension in the Air

"NO!!! We're doing it again!!" Paul's powerful voice echoed through the studio. The other three groaned audibly as they attempted to perform the song to his liking. They began the track for what felt like the umpteenth time.

_When I call you up, your line's engaged_   
_I have had enough, so act your age_   
_We have lost the time that was so hard to find_   
_And I will lose my mind_   
_If you won't see me, you won't see me_

_I don't know why you should want to hide_

_But I can't get through, my hands are tied_   
_I won't want to stay, I don't have much to say_   
_But I get turned away_   
_And you won't see me, you won't see me_

_Time after time you refuse to even listen_

_I wouldn't mind if I knew what I was missing_

_Though the days are few they're filled with tears_   
_And since I lost you, it feels like years_   
_Yes, it seems so long, girl, since you've been gone_   
_And I just can't go on_   
_If you won't see me, you won't see me_

 

Even though the boys had been at it for a while, Paul's voice still sounded impressively clear and robust. Nevertheless, I could hear in their moans between takes that they were not currently in the jolliest state of mind. I decided it was time to wipe my red-rimmed eyes and check up on them.

I apprehensively cracked the door open and tried to slip through as casually as possible. Naturally, John was the first to notice my arrival. However, instead of announcing my presence with enthusiasm as he usually did, he simply acknowledged me with a curt nod.

George spotted me next and flashed me his signature shy yet knowing grin, "Oh, well look who it is!"

"Good afternoon, Gail. How are you feeling?" Ringo asked with a pleasant smile.

I could feel the pain stir with each thump of my heart as a lump began to form in my throat, "I'm...feeling okay..."

"Good, good, yes, we're all good! Now, let's play it again!" Paul barked.

Once again, he was met with three worn out groans; this time, I was also able to note the increasingly vexed rolling of the eyes.

"Come on, give it a rest, Paul, me bloody head's killing me!" George remarked as he wearily brought a hand to his head.

"Yeah, mine too..." Ringo concurred softly.

"Maybe you guys would feel better if you stopped partying so hard late at night, leaving messes for me to clean up..." I snidely suggested, admittedly a tad bitter that they didn't ask me to join.

John quickly snapped at this, "Oh I'm sorry! We totally would've invited you, but you made it clear with your little outburst yesterday that you don't want me anywhere near you!!"

I sighed, rolled my eyes and considerately approached him, "It's not like that, John. I lashed out because I was hurt and confused. I didn't mean it..."

John shook his head disbelievingly, "Listen, I know you're upset 'cuz that sorry sod broke up with you, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that!"

"Lay off of her, John! Neil just got done being a creep with her, he's had his lousy eye on her for a while..." Paul piped up.

I looked up at him in shock. How did he know this? How quickly did word get around at EMI anyway? I turned my head back to John hopelessly, "Please forgive me..."

John shrugged and fiddled with his guitar, "We'll see..."

With a soft grunt, I relented. Clearly, forgiveness was too much to ask of him right now. This snarky, moody side of the boys was such a stark contrast to the carefree, lighthearted air they had during the photoshoot.

Meanwhile, Paul was still strictly business, "Alright lads, let's play it again, and let's do it right this time!"

With that, everyone was fed up. They all loudly dismissed him and left the room. Suddenly, it was just me and Paul.

"Ah, fine leave! You bloody bastards!" Paul hollered at the doorway. Angrily, he picked up his guitar. At first, he just strummed it crazily, not making much sense of a tune. Eventually, though, he calmed down a bit and segued into one of his songs.

_I'm looking through you,_   
_Where did you go?_   
_I thought I knew you,_   
_What did I know?_   
_You don't look different, but you have changed._   
_I'm looking through you, you're not the same._

_Your lips are moving,_

_I cannot hear._   
_Your voice is soothing,_   
_But the words aren't clear._   
_You don't sound different,_   
_I've learned the game._   
_I'm looking through you,_   
_You're not the same._

_Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?_

_Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight._

_You're thinking of me,_

_The same old way._   
_You were above me,_   
_But not today._   
_The only difference is you're down there._   
_I'm looking through you,_

_And you're nowhere._

Sighing dejectedly, Paul looked visibly sad as he finished off the song. I, for one, was quite surprised at his temperament lately. Of the four, though he always took his music seriously, he was usually the most cheerful and optimistic; something was clearly biting at him.

Despite the butterflies forming in my stomach from being alone with Paul, I managed to finally swallow my nerves and say something.

"Um, Paul...are you feeling okay..?"

Paul looked up at me with a softened expression, "Yeah, I've just...got a lot of things on my mind..."

"Those songs were about Jane, weren't they?" I sympathetically deducted.

Paul looked down, bit his lip and sighed in defeat, "I love Jane, but I really don't get to see much of her anymore...she's always off shooting some film or other..."

I nodded, recalling their conversation from the night before.

"You know, sometimes, I wish she would just stop being an actress! But every time I bring it up, she just doesn't listen! I wish she could just be a good little girl and stand by my side..." he continued.

As I listened to him rant, I felt an odd irritation building inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt the urge to defend Jane.

"Well, who are you to tell her what she can and can't do!?" I snapped. "How do you know what a 'good little girl' does!? If this is something she wants, why not support her!?"

"I'm her beau, she belongs to _me_! Everything I say and do for her is in her best interest..."

"She can make her own decisions, Paul! You're always trying to control everything and everybody!" I fired back.

"There's no need to get so worked up, love, I know you want me..." Paul replied swiftly, a sly gleam in his eyes.

My face went hot with fury. It dawned on me how obvious it must have been; not just to Paul, but to everyone. Up until this point, I seldom spoke to him unless he spoke to me first. Then again, he had been cool and distant around me too.

I stammered, "Th...that's not the point! Jane's a great girl and you're going to lose her because you're so hellbent on changing her! You always try to change everything about everyone to suit your own needs!"

"I wouldn't change a thing about _you_..." he said nonchalantly.

I stopped cold. It was a smooth line, for sure, but at that moment I wasn't having it.

"I'm going to go now, Paul..." I said with as resolutely as I could in that instance.

And so I did. Without looking back, I walked away and left Paul in the studio with his guitar.

***

A couple hours later, I heard a knock on my door.

"Gail, it's me! Can you open up?" I knew it would be Paul. While I was still rather sore at him, I thought it would only be fair of me to hear him out.

I cracked the door open slightly, "Yes..?"

"Gail, I came to apologize. Can I come in?"

Without a word, I nodded and let him in.

"Gail, I truly am sorry about earlier. I just...I get so nervous around you! I could barely say a bloody word to you a couple days ago, even though there were times when I desperately wanted to, like when John was dogging on you for not talking to us, or during the photoshoot, or especially when I sensed what Neil was up to. But then today, we were finally talking and...and...I was choking up! The only way I knew how to cover it up was to get cocky..." he paced the floor looking flustered.

I sighed, my anger fizzling away as I realized what had been happening. I didn't know I had this effect on Paul. I wondered, was this something Jane noticed?

"I'm sorry, too, Paul," I said. "I guess...this break up has been affecting me more than I thought." I looked down as I felt the familiar pain eating away at me again.

Paul looked down at me tenderly, "Would you like me to take you home?"

I looked up, my heart fluttering against my will, his dark puppy-dog eyes staring at me intensely. There was a niggling little voice in the back of my head telling me this could be a bad idea, but it was hard to say no to such a perfect, beautiful face.

Once again, I nodded. And so, off we went.

***

The drive on the way there was quiet. I couldn't decide if the silence was eerie or comforting. Part of me was still shell-shocked that this was even happening. Paul McCartney, the man I had secretly pined after for months now, was now driving me home. I hadn't mentally prepared myself for this. I could've done my hair!

As we made our way to my doorstep, I was unsure of how to proceed. My conscience was dictating that I ended it here. However, I wasn't really listening to my conscience today.

"Would you like to come inside for some tea?" I offered with a pleasant smile.

Paul grinned, "That sounds lovely!"

***

Once inside my flat, I dutifully made us the tea and then sat down at the foot of my bed with him. He beamed, his eyes twinkling, as my body positioned itself next to his.

"This is good tea!" he noted as he took a sip.

"Thanks! I've gotten good at it..." I chuckled with amusement.

Paul smiled warmly in return, "So, tell me Gail, how does a girl like you get stuck as a plain old secretary anyhow?"

Suddenly, I felt my stomach drop as I looked down at my mug. "It's...what my dad wanted..." I said softly.

"Oh..?" Paul urged, his face now painted with intrigue.

Unexpectedly overcome with emotion, I began to cry. Paul immediately pulled me closer and stroked the back of my head to comfort me.

"Gail, Gail! What's the matter, love!?" he inquired.

"It's my dad!" I said between sobs. "He lives my life for me, makes all the choices! Ever since my mum died when I was five, he's been so overly-controlling! I do love him, and I know he just wants what's best for me but...when things don't go exactly his way, he screams at me!"

As I was explaining all this to him, I suddenly realized why the way Paul spoke about Jane had struck such a nerve with me earlier.

"Has he ever hit you..?" Paul asked gently.

I rubbed my eye as I gasped for air, "A few times, when he gets really drunk..."

Paul shook his head disapprovingly, "Bloody bastard..." he turned to face me with a look of intent, "You know, my mother died when I was young too, it always stayed with me. Tell me, what was your mother's name?"

I looked up at him, new tears forming in my eyes, "Genevieve..."

I could see his face swell up with grief as I said this, and he pulled me in for a hug. When he let go, he looked intently at me again.

"You know, you were right about Jane. She _is_ a great girl, and I shouldn't be treating her the way I have. I don't want to turn into your father..."

I shook my head strenuously, "No, that won't happen. You're nothing like him!"

At that, Paul beamed with pride. I could feel his face inching towards mine.

"You know, that bloke was bloody _mad_ to let a bird like you go..." he said slowly as he leaned.

Instinctively, I began to lean towards him as well. Alas, my conscience kicked in again and I broke into a sweat.

"Paul, no! I - I can't..." I stumbled upon my words, tears streaming down my face.

Paul pouted a bit, "But Gail...why?"

I looked up at him sorrowfully, "It...it just wouldn't be right..."

Though visibly disheartened, Paul nodded in understanding.

"I'm going to need to ask you to leave..." I said gravely.

Again, Paul nodded as he brushed past me without another word.

That night, as I laid wide awake in bed, the tears kept falling. It hit me that I couldn't have Paul, I couldn't have Issac, I couldn't have anybody. I could only have this aching feeling in my heart that never seemed to go away no matter what happened.


	7. Love Games

As you can probably imagine, things were awkward the next morning between me and Paul. I clocked in at the studio, just as I usually did, but I didn't anticipate locking eyes with him so quickly as I entered the room.

All four of them were there. As soon as Paul noticed me, his eyes widened.

"Uh, good morning, Gail!" he blurted.

"Good morning, Paul!" I smiled warmly in response, asserting myself.

John, who immediately noticed the abrupt change in his friend when I arrived at the scene, narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He exchanged a glance with his other two band mates who appeared to have made the same observation, looking similarly mystified.

Paul cleared his throat a couple times and fiddled with Ringo's drumsticks, "Alright, lads! Let's start the song, shall we? Take 1! I've Just Seen a F-Face..." he stumbled a bit on his last word.

John raised his eyebrows skeptically but still obliged, "Sure, Paul..."

***

A bit later that day, I decided to make myself my own cuppa. A lot had been going on the past few days and I needed to mull it over. I was in the small kitchen, preparing the tea, when all of a sudden I spotted John from the corner of my eye.

"Hey, Abbie," he stated, his eyes keenly fixated on me.

I broke out into a mild sweat, in spite of myself. I tried to cover up my nerves by reacting over-eagerly.

"John, hey! Did you want me to make you a cuppa?"

John shook his head, "I actually came over here to ask you something..."

I gulped, "Oh?"

"Yeah, would you like to come over to my place this evening to play some Monopoly?" he asked as his eyes shifted towards the counter.

My whole face flushed with surprise. I was so sure he was going to ask about Paul.

"Monopoly?" I repeated in disbelief.

John smirked slyly, "Yeah, it'll be fun! Just you and me, away from all this..." he gestured wildly at our surroundings.

I raised my eyebrow uncertainly, "What about Cynthia..?"

"She's at her mum's with Julian for the weekend," he explained.

Still confused, I narrowed my eyes, "...Weren't you mad at me?"

"S'all water under the bridge now..." he said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

I paused for a moment to ponder what he was requesting. All this could just be John's bizarre way of making amends with me. I decided to take him up on it.

I smiled, "Sure, John, that _does_ sound fun!"

John beamed, "Great! We can leave at around 7..."

"What happens at 7?" Ringo interjected, stealing an English muffin from the counter.

"Game night at John's!" I said with a chuckle. I quickly noticed John's demeanor change as I answered, as if he had wanted to keep this between us.

"Game night? Well, gosh, that sounds terrific! But can we move it to my place? I was just about to invite you for dinner and drinks with Maureen and me tonight, to make up for when we didn't invite you before." Ringo explained.

George, who was sitting idly by the drum set, overheard him and suddenly perked up. "Can I come!? The Shepard's pie Maureen makes is bloody to die for!" he gushed excitedly.

"Yes, you can all come! We've all been so tense and sour lately, a homey night in is just what we need!" Ringo declared.

I was about to address John, who was dead silent and wincing in the corner, when a nerve-wracking thought hit me. My eyes widened in realization, "So, _everyone's_ coming..?"

"Yep!" Ringo nodded with a blinding smile.

"That means... _Paul_ is coming, right?" I clarified as the butterflies began to fill my stomach.

At this, everyone exchanged knowing looks. George smirked at me and rolled his eyes, "Yes, Paul is coming..."

For a moment, there was a slight lull in the conversation. However, I wasn't able to hide the starry-eyed expression on my face and I began to giggle inadvertently. Pretty soon, I wasn't able to hold it in at all and I was making quite a spectacle of my excitement.

When I looked up, George was shaking his head, still rolling his eyes in endearment. John, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes for a different reason and did not look the least bit amused.

Ringo chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes, then! See you tonight!"

***

Ringo offered to drive us all to his place in his car. George sat with him in front, while I sat between Paul and John in the back. Along the way, Paul shot me a couple of shy glances. At one point, our eyes locked in a heart-stopping gaze. Meanwhile, John eyed us both, his own eyes narrowed.

When we finally reached our destination, we filed out of the car and made it to the doorstep.

"After you, beautiful," Paul said, graciously opening the door for me, clearly not missing a beat with his McCartney charm.

"Why thank you, Macca!" John childishly squealed as he put his hand on my back and walked us both past him.

On cue, Maureen sauntered buoyantly towards us. Instantly, she pulled me in for a warm embrace.

"Gail, we're so glad you could make it!" she gushed. Upon hugging her, I could plainly see how big she was getting. I was vaguely aware Maureen was pregnant, but she wore dark clothes so often, it was easy to overlook.

"Ha-hey, Mo! How's lil' Ritchie doing!?" John asked mischievously, tapping her stomach.

Maureen simpered lovingly at him, "He's due any day now!"

"Are you sure it's alright that we're all drinking while you're in this state?" Paul asked, his large doe eyes widened with concern.

"Oh, it's okay! I just like to pretend I'm drinking!" she took a small sip of her water. "Mmm! Such good wine!"

Paul and John briefly glanced at each other and looked at her funnily. I, too, was a bit thrown off by her plastered smile and slightly off-kilter energy, but ultimately concluded this was typical pregnant lady behavior.

"Thank you for having me!" I said with a polite, grateful smile.

"Yes, of course! I've been wanting to have you over forever! We're so happy to have you in our home! Please, feel free to help yourself to some appetizers in the kitchen!" she sweetly offered as she motioned us further inside.

***

As everyone began to get situated, things began to take on a more lighthearted tone. Ringo was making popcorn in the kitchen for us all to consume.

"And...pop goes the weasel!" he said as he placed the bowl on the counter.

After he left, I found myself alone under the bright pantry lights and I began to think aloud.

"What am I doing with my life? How did I get here? Well, I am hanging out with the Beatles, so I guess I can't be _that_ badly off..."

"Talking to yourself?" John suddenly remarked with a chuckle.

My heart skipped a beat as I pushed the hair out of my face in slight embarrassment, "Oh, um, yeah..."

"Spending time out of the office can be a lot to process, I know!" John teased.

I smiled and shook my head, "Hey, I'm sorry that I kinda let Ringo usurp our plans earlier. I know how badly you wanted to play Monopoly..."

John laughed a bit, "It's okay, at least we get some time alone together now..."

He took a step towards me, strangely making me feel both uncomfortable and at ease at the same time.

"How've you been feeling?" he asked in a lower, more caring tone.

He was obviously referring to my break up. The truth is that I wasn't really sure how to answer. I was going through so much in so little time, how was I supposed to feel?

"I don't know," I confessed worriedly. "I just want to be free from all this stress and anguish, everything that's been weighing me down..."

"Yeah, who needs BOYS!?" Maureen chirped as she nudged me and came between us, somehow already woozy just from drinking water.

John face palmed at her comment as I scowled and took a brisk swig of my drink.

"Anyway, Abbie," John continued with a slightly annoyed shake of the head. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for being such a sod lately..."

"It's okay, John," I said quietly, looking down at my drink.

Just then, Paul came strolling in confidently. He immediately detected my presence, smiling and hungrily eyeing me up and down.

"Gail, may I just say, you look absolutely _stunning_ tonight..." Paul stated in awe.

I blushed at the compliment. I dress very French, with my distinctive beret, skirt and tweed sweater. It was the way my mum used to dress, and it made me look like her, as people often noted. It was nice to be noticed purely for me rather than my deceased mother for once.

In addition to my cheeks growing visibly red, I began to inadvertently giggle again. This time, John was the one to take a deep swig of his drink.

***

"Mmm! This Shepard's Pie is _AMAZING_ , Mo!" George was eagerly chowing down the meal Maureen had prepared for us.

Maureen beamed with pride, "Thank you, George! It's my specialty!"

I was sitting across from Paul, who continued to eye me intently. I can only assume he was attempting to seduce me with his gaze; and admittedly, he wasn't doing a bad job. I couldn't help but notice the way his long, sumptuous eyelashes flared out, or the way his somewhat messy hair framed his boyishly cute face.

At one point, he amorously tried to prod my foot with his own. Sadly, he missed.

"OW! Cut it out, Macca!" John yelped in irritation. Sitting beside me, I could tell he was becoming increasingly agitated with Paul's advances. But before I had the chance to fully consider what that meant, Maureen spoke up.

"So, Gail!" she started cheerfully. "Ringo tells me you've been aiming to write a book..."

My eyes widened. It was true that I had been longing to write something, but I hadn't exactly jumped to the 'book' part yet.

"Uh, yeah, I guess..." I stammered.

"What do you want to write about?" Ringo asked pleasantly.

I pondered this for a moment. Naturally, my head was swirling with a plethora of ideas; it was just difficult to get some of these ideas to paper. I looked briefly to Paul, who flicked an apprehensive eyebrow at me.

"...I guess I would just write whatever's in my heart..." I simply replied with a shrug.

Maureen chuckled airily, "Yeah, you can turn your recent heartache into a novel!"

At that, everyone froze awkwardly in their spots. Even George had stopped loudly chewing. Suddenly fraught, I guzzled down another shot, quickly losing track of how much I was drinking.

"Or! She could just...not write at all! If she wants to..." Paul salvaged, looking desperately at me.

When I said nothing in response, Paul started to get antsy and poured himself another glass.

***

As the night wore on, we were all getting quite tipsy. Especially Paul, John and me.

"Abbie. Abbie. Abbie." John poked me repeatedly. "I have something to tell you, Abbie..."

I turned around, smiling and gazing into his amber eyes. "Yes, John?"

I saw an indistinguishable flicker in his stare -- a touch of fear or insecurity, perhaps? He looked down and bit his lip regretfully, "Nothing..."

I rolled my eyes, smirking, "And you call _me_ closed off..."

All of a sudden, I felt a tug on my sweater. I turned around, it was Paul. He was beckoning me to sit on his lap with his puppy-dog eyes.

"Com'ere, love..." he uttered softly.

Ecstatically, I obliged. He immediately tried to kiss me.

"WAIT!" I panicked. "What about Jane!?"

"To heck with Jane!" Paul cheeped, giddily drunk.

"I thought you said you loved her..." I prompted with a confused pout.

"I do!" Paul affirmed, then paused momentarily in slight sadness. "But I don't feel loved by _her_..."

Ordinarily, I would have taken the time to thoroughly analyze what he was telling me. Alas, I was too far gone at that point to care.

"You guys! I have an idea for a story!" I announced with a gasp, my words slurring just a bit more than I'd like to admit.

John joined me in my delight, "What is it, babe!?"

I halted for a moment then giggled, "...I forget!"

I continued to giggle uncontrollably and spread the upper half of my body onto John's torso while my legs were still on Paul's lap.

"Abbie," John tried again, a certain urgency to his tone. "I think about you so much, I can't sleep, Abbie..."

I tittered, "Well, you need to sleep, John!"

Suddenly, we felt a shadow loom over the couch. We all looked up to see none other than Ringo, looking down upon us with a sneaky smile.

"Hey, boys, how about a round of Beer Pong?" he proposed artfully.

"You're on, Ritchie!!!" John hollered a little too loudly.

"Yeah, bring it on, Starr!" Paul challenged smoothly.

"Perfect! Pick your partner!" Ringo instructed.

"I pick Greene!" Paul and John both declared simultaneously, tagging my skirt. Once they realized what had happened, they stared each other down coldly.

George, who had been munching on leftover food and watching intently in the background, piped up with a suggestion.

"Guess we'll need to make it three-on-three, then. Mo, get over here!" he called out.

"I'm here!" Maureen appeared readily.

"Ace!" Ringo cheered. "Gail, do you know how to play?"

Before I got the chance to answer, both John and Paul were already feeling up my arms trying to teach me.

Paul looked sternly at John, "I've got this, John! You do it like this, beautiful..." he gazed warmly at me.

"No! You're doing it all wrong, Macca! Here, lemme have her!" John yelped in frustration.

"Never!" Paul gave John a death glare.

"Um, yeah, are we ever going to get started?" George asked impatiently, his mouth partially full.

Maureen shook her head in adulation, "Those boys are so sweet trying to help her..."

George and Ringo both gave her a bewildered look.

Finally, we were able to get an actual game going. As we continued to play, George and Ringo were quickly catching up to us in their intoxication. Ultimately, however, the Lennon-McCartney-Greene team won.

"WHOOO!" I rejoiced. "We did it! We did it!" I began to dance triumphantly as Paul and John joined me to the sides.

George and Ringo could only respond in drunken rumbles, pretending not to care and accusing us of cheating.

Then, all of a sudden, both Paul and John turned to me and broke into song, their voices still incredibly harmonic despite indulging in a few too many drinks.

" _A_ _nd when I touch you I feel happy, inside....it's such a feeling that my love...I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide..._ " they managed to finish the whole chorus, serenading me.

I smiled and shook my head, in awe of John and Paul's dynamic: one moment they'd be at each other's throats, the next they'd be so perfectly in sync.

"Let's play a new game now!" Maureen perkily suggested. "How about truth or dare!?"

"Oooh, I wanna go first!!!" George slurred as he raised his hand. "Gail, truth or dare!?"

I froze. I wasn't in any position or condition to comply with either option. Whether I picked truth or dare, I would be forced to face the uncomfortable truth about my feelings.

"D-dare," I answered hesitantly.

George beamed deviously, "Kiss anyone in the room that you want!"

My stomach sank, I knew it was coming to this; but the fact that it was a dare and I was already so screwed made the decision to do what I did next not so difficult.

I kissed Paul. Deeply. Passionately. I even went as far as to unbutton his shirt a little bit. For the first time in a while, I wasn't thinking about my dad or Issac. In fact, in that moment, they were the furthest thing from my mind...

The others jeered and oohed at us. John, however, made a vexed, gruff noise and stomped off.

Just then, Maureen began to moan and cry out in pain.

"Mo, what's wrong!?" Ringo exclaimed as he rushed to hold her.

"The baby...it's coming..." she cooed weakly.

"Oh, FUCK!" Ringo panicked, still apparently drunk but thankfully not as drunk as the rest of us. "I'll call an ambulance!"

"Lil' Ritchie's coming!? I gotta to see this..." John gasped, suddenly snapped out of his sulkiness.

"NO!" Ringo demanded. "Stay here! Don't worry about us, we'll be alright!"

"Good luck, Rings! Say hi to the handsome boy for me!" Paul called out, laying down on the couch.

"Thanks, lads! I can't believe this is happening!" he replied, starry-eyed.

***

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. Paul, John and I all fell asleep on the couch. John was the first to conk out, leaving Paul and me in each other's presence.

"Gail..." Paul blurted out with a small whimper.

I lifted my head, tired and dazed from the night's events. "Yes, Paul..?"

"Did it mean anything..?" he asked tentatively.

It was the question I was dreading. Of course I was drunk, but that didn't alter the fact that I wanted Paul. I was ashamed to want him, but I did.

"Yes..." I whispered, falling asleep, in spite of the butterflies fluttering madly in my stomach.

I could see Paul smugly smile to himself as he, too, fell asleep. We stayed in this dreamland 'til dawn.


	8. The Doe and the Bird

Early that morning, Zak Richard Starkey was born; thankfully, with no complications. I was feeling pretty red-faced at the spectacle I had made at the dinner. John, Paul and I all vehemently apologized to Maureen for the way we behaved. Maureen, being the good-natured soul she is, forgave us instantly and actually recounted the whole event as being rather funny.

Now, however, I needed to face Paul. There was an obvious heat forming between us. The question burning on my mind was how to address it. Obviously, he was still seeing Jane. In fact, I had overheard a phone conversation between them right after the events of the dinner transpired. By the sound of it, things appeared to be going south quickly, and I couldn't help feeling like I had something to do with it.

Finally, I decided to stop stalling and just approach him. He was at his piano, deep in his playing.

"Hey, Paul..." I began softly.

Paul looked up from the keys with an insecure, almost frightened look in his eyes as he gazed at me. After a split second, the look flickered away and his usual self-asserted demeanor began to set in.

"Oh, hello Gail..." he spouted matter-of-factly.

I sighed, "Listen, these past couple days I've been saying and doing things I don't really mean. I haven't been acting like myself. I've been going through a lot with Issac and you've been going through a lot with Jane, so when you think about it, it kinda makes sense that we've been acting the way that we have..."

It was half-true. It was true that the pain of my break up with Issac was causing me to do and say things that weren't characteristic of me; lashing out at John and Paul, for example, or getting wasted. But deep in my heart, I knew I was just trying to rationalize my feelings for Paul, which had been genuine from the start.

"Hm, we should get coffee..." Paul mused, ignoring what I said.

It took a moment to register what he was suggesting, "...Coffee?"

"Right, in fact, let's make it lunch! I need to get out of this crummy, old studio anyhow..." he declared, standing up.

Unable to conjure up a reason why I shouldn't, I agreed to go with him.

***

Once outside, Paul guided me through the bustling London streets, only a hat and dark glasses disguising him from an unsuspecting public. Eventually, he led me right to the front of a quaint cafe.

"Fantastic sandwiches, they make. Just ask George!" he lightly chuckled as he gestured to the establishment.

I smiled and followed him inside.

Paul was right. The sandwiches _were_ bloody fantastic. Ordinarily, I'd be a little shy about eating in front of a boy, but experiencing a mouthful of juicy flavor was worth sacrificing any vanity.

Paul's eyes crinkled lovingly as he watched me eat. I was already beginning to feel the butterflies form in my stomach again. It had been a long time since I had been out with a boy; it felt like bloody ages since I had last been on a date with Issac.

As my appetite began to wane with each bite, I attempted to start a conversation.

"So, are things still rocky between you and Jane?" I asked.

"I don't want to talk about Jane right now," Paul answered sharply.

I recoiled in shame. I may not particularly care for Jane either way, but it was still in my nature to make sure things were going smoothly for them as a couple. It mattered to me, not only that they were doing okay, but that Paul himself was okay.

Paul panicked slightly, "I'm sorry, I - I just want to know more about you..."

I froze, "...Me?"

"Yeah," Paul grinned, gaining his confidence back. "What are your likes, dislikes...what do you like on your chips?" he chortled as he lifted the container of chips beside us.

I bit my lip anxiously. I never liked to be put on the spot, especially to talk about myself. Since my dad controlled almost every aspect of my life, it was hard for me to pin down who 'myself' truly was. Nevertheless, I could tell that it was this deeper part of me that both Paul and John desperately wanted to crack.

"Well...I like dogs. But not _too_ big dogs," I laughed inwardly. "One time, when I was five, a ferocious yard dog attacked me, bit me right on my hand. I still have the scar, see?" I showed him the faint brown scar on my right hand. Paul was about to get a closer look at my hand but I frantically swiped it away before he could, my nerves getting the better of me.

"Ha, gnarly!" he exclaimed excitedly. "What happened next?"

"Well, then I went crying to my mum...she wrapped a bandage around my booboo and made it all better..." I winced internally. I can't believe I actually said the word 'booboo' in front of Paul. Couldn't I have just said wound? My mind then went to my mum; things were so much more innocent when she was around, I was more innocent...

My face fell, tears threatening to fall. Paul immediately placed his hand on my arm, comforting me. I looked up, his eyes told me _'I get it'_.

Sniffling a bit, I wiped away a small tear. "Oh, and I like salad cream on my chips!" I continued.

Straightaway, Paul clapped his hands. "Excuse me, could we please get some salad cream over here?!" he winked at me.

Gratified, I couldn't stop myself from beaming.

***

As we headed out of the cafe, we decided to take the long way back to EMI. Strolling in the middle of all the crowds was surprisingly soothing. There was just something so therapeutic about taking in the fresh air, far away as can be from the toxic atmosphere of the studio.

"So, now _you_ tell me about yourself." I enjoined with a sneaky smile. "What heart wrenching stories do _you_ have to tell me?"

Paul smiled devilishly in return, "Well, I'm hopelessly falling for a secretary..."

I rolled my eyes, blushing. Goddamn this McCartney charm...

"I meant, tell me a little more about _you_. What makes _you_ tick?"

"Music," Paul stated solemnly. "Music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I write a song, I write it from the heart. It's how I get everything out..."

I nodded, "That's how I feel with my own writing. When I have a story idea, it's hard for me to function until I get it all down..."

Paul's face then abruptly dropped, forming a dark expression, "We should start to head back, ya?"

"Oh, um, yeah..." I replied quickly, brushing the hair out my face in confusion.

***

When we got back, John looked up at us and said nothing. His eyes, cold and stern. Meanwhile, Ringo wolf-whistled and George laughed heartily.

"Well, well, well. Where did you two go?" George teased.

"Out," Paul replied simply, the starts of a smirk forming on his face. He departed quickly, however, leaving me with John, George and Ringo.

"So, how did it go with Paulie-boy?" Ringo baited, his eyebrows wagging at me.

Smiling anxiously, I tried to change the subject. "I think the more pressing question on everyone's minds is...how's the miracle baby doing?"

John suddenly perked up, "Yeah, 'ol Ritchie's a daddy now, how does _that_ feel!?"

"Great!" Ringo affirmed with pride. "It feels different but... _good_ different. As a matter of fact, I need to go check on Mo and the tot right now! See you all later!"

"Cheers, then!" John piped.

"See ya, Rings!" George said with a wave of the hand.

Before I could say another word to the boys, they had both already secluded to their corners of the studio, as hard at work as ever on their new album.


	9. Squabbles in the Studio

The next morning, Paul was on his sixth cup of tea. The pieces were finally starting to come together for the _Rubber Soul_ record, so I'm sure the extra fuel was needed. However, I also felt he had me running back and forth because he wanted to see more of me.

His eyes twinkled over at me as I rushed over, serving him his latest cuppa.

"Gail, Gail, Gail. Always a pleasure to see your beautiful face. I never get tired of it!" he expressed with a flirtatious smirk.

George, who was standing behind him, guitar in tow, rolled his eyes in irritation, "This coming from the lad who couldn't even bloody look her in the eye a week ago..."

I couldn't help but giggle. Paul narrowed his eyes briefly at him but didn't respond.

Suddenly, Beatles arranger George Martin appeared alongside engineer Norman Smith.

Mr. Martin eyed me pleasantly, "Good morning to you, Gail! I'm sure the boys have been keeping you _plenty_ busy..." he chuckled and shot a knowing glance at Paul.

Once again, I giggled, hiding the blush prominently forming on my face with my hands. Paul looked down and twiddled his thumbs, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"I trust you boys have been working _very_ hard on the album..." Mr. Martin asserted, still smiling knowingly.

"Yes sir, we are!" George grinned and saluted his senior producer.

Mr. Martin shook his head and simpered, "Where are the other two?"

"Yes, pray tell, what shenanigans are Lennon and Starkey up to now?" Mr. Smith chimed in cynically.

"Who knows..." Paul mumbled dryly as he sipped his tea.

"I'M HERE!" John announced boisterously. "Top of the morning to you all! Normie, Georgie, other Georgie...and oh, look, if it ain't Paul and Abbie, looking as cutesy as ever!"

We all cast an uneasy glance at one another; he was in one of _those_ moods, wasn't he?

Ringo followed closely behind, looking exhausted. He yawned softly, "Greetings, everyone..."

Rubbing his forehead in distress, Paul simply handed me the mug. "Gail, if you don't mind, dear, I think I'm gonna need just one more cuppa..."

***

_If I needed someone to love_   
_You're the one that I'd be thinking of_   
_If I needed someone_

_If I had some more time to spend_

_Then I guess I'd be with you my friend_   
_If I needed someone_

_Had you come some other day then_

_It might not have been like this_   
_But you see now I'm too much in love_

_Carve your number on my wall and_

_Maybe you will get a call from me_   
_If I needed someone_

_Aah, aah, aah, aah_

_If I had some more time to spend_

_Then I guess I'd be with you my friend_   
_If I needed someoneThen I guess I'd be with you my friend_   
_If I needed someone_

_Had you come some other day then_

_It might not have been like this_   
_But you see now I'm too much in love_

_Carve your number on my wall and_

_Maybe you will get a call from me_   
_If I needed someone_

_Aah, aah_

 

The boys finished out George's new song with their incredible three-part harmony.

"That was real nice, boys..." Mr. Smith nodded in approval.

All of a sudden, John smirked and whispered something in George's ear. In reply, George rolled his eyes and arched his eyebrows together in amusement as he played the first chord of _Every Little Thing_.

My heart stopped in its tracks. How did John know that was my favorite Beatles song? He quickly walked over towards me and began to sing with his nasal, impassioned voice.

_When I'm walking beside her_   
_People tell me I'm lucky._   
_Yes, I know I'm a lucky guy._   
_I remember the first time_   
_I was lonely without her._   
_Can't stop thinking about her now._

Without missing a beat, Paul followed suit with his amazing, pitch-perfect harmony for the chorus.

_Every little thing she does_   
_She does for me, yeah_   
_And you know the things she does_   
_She does for me, oooh_

Then, both Paul and John sang the remaining verses simultaneously, flowing right into the main part.

_When I'm with her I'm happy_   
_Just to know that she loves me_   
_Yes, I know that she loves me now_   
_There is one thing I'm sure of_   
_I will love her forever_   
_For I know love will never die_

_Every little thing she does_   
_She does for me, yeah_   
_And you know the things she does_   
_She does for me, oooh_

_Every little thing she does_   
_She does for me, yeah_   
_And you know the things she does_   
_She does for me, oooh_   
_Every little thing_   
_Every little thing_

At this point, my face was visibly red, though I tried my best to hide it. John was looking very self-assured as he looked over to me, his amber eyes sparkling luminously. Paul looked a tad bit annoyed but remained composed.

"Let's try to stick to the current album..." Mr. Martin said, a bemused grin on his face.

Next, they rehearsed the song _Wait_. I caught both John and Paul stealing sly glimpses at me as they sang and played. Paul, especially, was eyeing me up something fierce when he got to the line:

_I feel as though_   
_You ought to know_   
_That I've been good_   
_As good as I can be_   
_And if you do_   
_I'll trust in you_   
_And know that you_   
_Will wait for me_

_But if your heart breaks_   
_Don't wait, turn me away_   
_And if your heart's strong_   
_Hold on, I won't delay_

All of a sudden, Paul and John turned to each other, their bodies smoldering with passion, intensity and testosterone. It seemed as though one wanted the other to back off but neither of them were budging.

_Wait till I come back to your side_   
_We'll forget the tears we've cried_

Then, they quickly turned themselves back to me.

_It's been a long time_   
_Now I'm coming back home_   
_I've been away now_   
_Oh how, I've been alone_

"Well, I think that went well!" Paul chirped, smiling smugly. He turned to me with a tender gaze, "How do _you_ think it went, Gail?"

My eyes widened in slight panic. There seemed to be something deeper going on here, something I wasn't fully privy to. I wasn't sure why Paul was asking me this or how precisely he wanted me to answer. Suddenly, I felt all eyes on me.

"It...sounded good as always, Paul." I chuckled gently. "I don't know why _my_ opinion matters..."

Paul beamed, "Nonsense! Of course your opinion matters! You're my girl..." He then stood up, strolled directly towards where I was standing and gave me a light peck on the lips.

In that moment, everything seemed to stop. I heard a couple shocked reactions; even Ringo, who was nearly falling asleep at his drums, perked up with a disoriented "Huh?"

This probably should've been the happiest moment of my life. However, instead, I found myself feeling conflicted. _Is he being serious?_ Perhaps the excess caffeine was merely making him bold. _Is he only making a show of his affections to get a rise out of John?_ Either way, I didn't really appreciate it. I didn't just want to be used as a pawn in their ploy.

Meanwhile, John's eyes narrowed but he didn't seem completely deterred.

Just then, Brian came bursting through the door in a frenzy. "Everyone, stop what you're doing! There's been a last-minute change of plans!"

"Those bloody beetle bugs finally caught onto us and want to sue?" John cracked.

Brian glared at him, "Not now, John! We've been invited to a fancy banquet downtown tomorrow night at 8. Dress fancy, bring your significant others, all that jazz..."

"Jazz, huh?" Paul peeked over at me with a playful smile. "Gail, would you like to formally be my _'jazz'_ for this event?"

George stifled a snicker.

My eyes widened again as I bit my lip in consideration. Of course there was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to be his date for the evening, but things were moving rather quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly for comfort.

When I looked up at him, however, I saw his soft, hazel eyes looking back at me. He was eagerly awaiting my response, and in a cute way, I might add. Drawn to his gaze, I suddenly saw no reason to say no...

"Yes," I stated affirmatively, my face slowly rising into a simper. "Yes, Paul, I would like that _very_ much!"

At that, Paul's face gleamed with pride.

Brian lifted his finger frantically, as if he wanted to comment on what was happening, but then waved his hand dismissively.

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Remember! Tomorrow night at 8!" he hollered as he walked off.

***

As the long day dragged on, tensions didn't seem to dissipate. Though the boys continued to dutifully rehearse, their eyes never seemed to leave my direction.

" _For I have got another girl, another girl..._ " Paul began to croon.

"Okay! Let's play another song! Which one? How about _this_ one!?" John uttered loudly in an agitated tone.

_You're going to lose that girl_   
_You're going to lose that girl_   
_If you don't take her out tonight_   
_She's going to change her mind_   
_And I will take her out tonight_   
_And I will treat her kind_

_You're going to lose that girl_   
_You're going to lose that girl_   
_If you don't treat her right, my friend_   
_You're going to find her gone_   
_Cos I will treat her right, and then_   
_You'll be the lonely one_

_You're going to lose that girl_   
_You're going to lose that girl_   
_I'll make a point_   
_Of taking her away from you, yeah_   
_The way you treat her what else can I do?_

"Stay on the current album, John!" Mr. Smith ordered with a roll of the eyes.

"Oh, okay, fine!" John snapped. The tune then shifted gears on his guitar.

_Well I'd rather see you dead, little girl_   
_Than to be with another man..._

"JOHN!" Mr. Smith barked.

I stood in the back, anxiously twiddling my fingers. It surprised me how everyone only seemed to have minuscule control over John. It was as if they were all scared to fully stand up to him.

"So, which songs have you liked the best so far, Abbie? Mine or Paul's?" John asked with a crafty smile, turning to me.

"Heh, yes Gail, let's hear it! Which one of us tickled your fancy more?" Paul baited, clearly enjoying where this was going.

"Let's hear it, Abbie!" John imitated.

"Yes, go on, let's hear it, Gail!" Paul repeated.

"Abbie, Gail, whoever you are, just answer the goddamned question so we can get on with this!" George snapped.

I eyed George for a brief second, "I - I kinda liked George's song..." I said in a low tone, tinged with guilt. It was technically true.

John loudly moaned in exasperation at this, while Paul simply shook his head and rolled his eyes with a stern smile.

"Come on, you guys don't give George enough of a chance!" I pointed out.

"Yeah!" George exclaimed in agreement.

Thinking it over a moment, I began to smirk. "You know, when you think about it, George over here has the hottest girlfriend while you two are hitting on the secretary..."

At that, George and Ringo howled with laughter. Even Mr. Martin and Mr. Smith raised their eyebrows and stifled laughs, glancing at each other. Meanwhile, Paul and John's expressions tightened, their faces burning with pique.

I was enjoying this too much. I probably took it a step too far, but the looks on their faces were priceless. Besides, they were messing with me all day; it was time for me to bite back.

John, of course, wasn't going to take this laying down. He scoffed, "Well, excuse me for trying to make the secretary feel special! Anyway, you know you're flattered by it so don't even start..." he gulped down his water stormily.

"The flattery probably ended a long time ago, Johnny, you're making her uncomfortable!" George remarked soberly, reeling back from his laughter.

"Stay out of this, Harrison!" John berated.

"I think we all need a break!" Mr. Martin finally suggested.

"See, this is why I avoided hanging out with you boys for so long..." I pointed out as I stormed off, feeling a strange blend of both mirth and irritation.

***

A few hours passed and I could tell from my office that the moods in the studio were beginning to stabilize. The boys, still practicing, were sounding more like their usual goofy, carefree selves. Though I didn't want to serve as a distraction as I was doing before, I opted to briefly check up on them.

Upon my arrival, Paul immediately noticed me and his body stiffened. He looked me in the eye apologetically. I bit my lip, hoping he was receiving the same message from my guilty gaze. I looked around for John but he was nowhere to be found.

"He went home," Mr. Smith elucidated, reading my mind. "Said he needed to run home and get something. Seemed pretty urgent..."

I nodded, though confused. Not wanting to disturb the current flow and peace of the session, I decided to quietly step back into my office.

***

When I came back out, as opposed to much earlier, the studio was empty and quiet. I took a deep breath, releasing all the tension that had been building up inside me all day. As always, however, my reprieve was not meant to last long...

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, causing me to jump and yelp in a girlish manner. I heard John chuckle.

"Sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you." I turned around to see his face, grinning boyishly as ever. Though my outward stare was vacant, my nerves were already racing.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I...kinda lost me cool there earlier but hopefully this will make up for it some. I wrote you something..." he pulled out a few ripped pages from his jacket pocket and handed them to me. "I was going to show it to you this morning but then I realized I forgot them. Don't show the others!" he lightly patted me on the arm with a wink and then scampered off.

Hesitantly, I opened up the folded pages. What unfolded before me was a bunch of John's scribbles and doodles, each dated with dates from the past week or so. On the back of one page, signed with today's date, I spotted my name and proceeded to read what it said.

_"That Abbie Greene._

_I love her hair, her grace, her freckled face._

_I think I love that Abbie Green._

_Though at times she is quite mean._

_I don't have much choice but to fall._

_That Abbie ain't too shabby, all in all."_

 

My heart raced and my face went hot as I saw that most of the entries had some mention of me (oftentimes, referring to me as 'me Gail'). I even saw a rough sketch of me in my beret. Suddenly, I felt a certain flutter in my stomach that I couldn't identify.

I questioned if all this was real and truly meant something or if he was just screwing with me again. I thought all these childish quarrels with Paul had been a game to him. After all, both Paul and John were known to bring each other's egos and competitive streaks out. _Could it be something deeper than that?_

I bit my lip, deep in thought. _John is undeniably good-looking but I only see him as a friend. Besides, he has a wife. And a kid._ It was hard enough trying to navigate Paul and Jane's situation. _And I truly am besotted with Paul. When he drops the arrogant act, we actually have a heart-felt connection._

As I stood there, mulling everything over, I didn't notice Mr. Martin coming up to me from behind.

"Uh, Miss Greene?" he started.

Once again, I jumped with a yelp, making sure I hid the ripped pages behind my back as I turned to acknowledge him.

"Hi, Mr. Martin!" I greeted with a high-pitched voice.

Mr. Martin chuckled and shook his head, "Please, call me George. I just came over here to apologize on behalf of the boys today. I don't know what's gotten into them. We've had many a bird come to and from this studio, but I've never seen them act quite like this before..."

I smiled nervously, "Oh, it's quite alright. It's not the _worst_ treatment I've ever gotten..."

Mr. Martin beamed in return, "Well, I know they mean you no harm. It's just, when they're moody, they have a penchant for saying things they don't necessarily mean, and I don't want you to take it to heart. Trust me, at the end of the day, they're all cuckoo bananas about you..."

"I can see that..." I nodded anxiously, the torn out pages burning through my palms.


	10. Banquet

In preparation for the hectic, eventful day I knew was ahead of me, I guzzled down an extra cup of coffee. If a fancy banquet was out of my element, then a fancy banquet with the boys was _way_ out of my element. And if that weren't already enough, I had to factor in my current standing with said boys. As much as I had previously tried to avoid this precise situation, having two hot musicians who were infatuated with me admittedly wasn't the worst position for me to be in.

As I exited the taxi and waltzed through the doors of EMI, I felt a certain excitement growing inside me. Maybe if I just loosen up and not think so much for once, I'll actually end up having a fun time. Distracted, I didn't notice George strolling pass me.

He grinned exuberantly, "Well, if it isn't Paul's _'jazz'_..?"

I smiled anxiously; my heart dropped at the mention of Paul. I was really going to be his date tonight. This wasn't all just some crazy fever dream. Instinctively, my face began to flush and the butterflies residing in my stomach proceeded to rage.

" _I get high when I see you go by, Abbie..._ " my thoughts were interrupted yet again, this time by an unmistakable wily voice.

I looked up, John. The same John who had nonchalantly handed me suggestive scribbles last night like it was nothing. How could he get away with that? How was I supposed to react the next time I saw him?

I gulped; 'next time' is _now_...

He smirked and deviously raised an eyebrow at me, "Well, how are ya, love? Aren'tcha gonna say hi to me?" he reached out to touch me but I hastily backed away.

"I have work to do, John," I stated firmly, my eyes piercing into his.

John hooted, "Of course you do! See ya tonight!" he shot me a wink as I hurried out of his sight.

As I locked myself into the dark privacy of my office, I leaned my back against the door and sighed deeply. I could still feel my heart racing rapidly against my chest. This banquet was going to be a bigger event than I bargained for...

***

That night, I quickly changed into the mint green dress I had hidden at work for special affairs; I wanted to look extra special tonight for the boys. I carefully redid my eyeliner and mascara, going for a more dramatic look. Lastly, I took a curling iron to my hair to give it that very subtle flip. Swigging one last cup of coffee for good measure, I fleetly examined myself in the mirror.

The delectable stimulant rushing through my veins gave my cheeks a rosy glow. I simpered blithely at my reflection. _Yes, that should about do it..._

As I flaunted out of my office, feeling good about myself, I immediately caught the eye of John. He was standing a little ways away from me, admiring me with his gaze. I looked up at him, smiling. At this, his face drained of color as he appeared to be at a loss for words.

"Abbie..." he shakily began. "You look _amazing_..!"

"I know," I replied in a surge of caffeine-induced confidence. "You don't look so bad yourself!"

And he didn't. John, in fact, looked quite dashing in his suit and tie. It was hard for me not to gape right back at him.

"Thanks," he answered quietly as he looked down, twiddling his thumbs.

I chuckled, "And for once, your big yap is shut!"

John narrowed his eyes at me and then raised his chin, feeling challenged. "Oh, sod off!"

"Alright, where is she?" I heard someone say in his usual eager yet airy tone. It was Paul. My escort for the evening.

Akin to John, Paul's reaction to me was one of shock and awe. His jaw dropped and his eyes were stunned and enlarged. But before he could say anything, I was taken aback by how handsome and debonair Paul looked in his respective suit and tie; it was like he was born for these types of events.

"Wow..." I squeaked as I approached him.

"Wow is _right_..." Paul tittered nervously as he approached me.

"Well, now that we're all wowed out!" John piped up as he came between us. "When are we leaving for this thing!?"

Paul casually checked his watch, "It shouldn't be too long now..."

"Is Cynthia coming?" I asked John.

"Couldn't make it," he replied with an unaffected shrug.

"And Jane's still off shooting her movie," Paul affirmed with a slight grin.

"Will you boys behave tonight?" I tested sternly.

John chortled, "It'll be hard when you're wearing that dress..."

"John!" I nudged him lightly in annoyance.

"Uh, Gail, could I speak to you for a moment..?" Paul requested as he briefly shot daggers at John.

As the butterflies in my stomach gave me no rest, I smiled anxiously at him. "Sure, Paul..."

***

Paul swiftly pulled me aside to an empty room with a mirror. He turned to me, staring intently.

"You know, I'm really happy you're here with me, Gail. I know things have been kind of weird lately, but there's just something about you that makes me lose all my wits..."

"Ditto," I uttered softly as I glanced to the side.

Just then, the door flew open and Brian stuck his head out urgently.

"Alright, boys! Ten minutes to showtime! I hope you all are ready!" he glimpsed quickly my way. "Oh, Gail, you look nice!" he added pleasantly.

Paul beamed assertively at me, then took one last look in the mirror. Suddenly, I felt his hand in mine. And I was on top of the world.

***

Brian drove Paul, John and me to our destination in the center of London. George and Pattie reserved a private car for themselves while Ringo opted to stay home with Maureen and the baby. As soon as we entered the venue, John made his presence known straightaway. Looking around, he made a sour face at all the haughty rich snobs who were in attendance.

"Bloody hell! I hate being among the snoots..." he grumbled as he adjusted his tie.

"Hey now, don't you start fussing about! We're very fortunate to be at this high-status event right now, so bloody act like it!" Brian snarled under his breath.

"Good evening, sir. Are you Brian Epstein, manager of the Beatles?" a distinguished-looking man, who looked to be about 30, inquired.

Grinning sheepishly, Brian looked up and shook his hand. "Why...yes, yes I am."

The older man then linked arms with Brian, leading him in the other direction. Paul and John exchanged a knowing look, sneering at each other.

"Looks like 'ol Eppy's got his hands full, eh Johnny?" Paul guffawed.

"Sure does look that way, don't it Macca?" John laughed along with him.

All of a sudden, an attractive young gentleman came sauntering up to me. "Excuse me, boys. Would you two mind too terribly if I borrowed this striking young lady to buy her a drink?"

"Over my dead body you ca--" John started angrily.

Paul stopped his bandmate from continuing, "Go right ahead, just give her back..."

I was a bit surprised to see Paul hand me off like that, not the least bit threatened. Still, a drink sounded positively invigorating at that moment, so I willingly went along with him.

***

As we stood to the side, the bloke eyed the boys from the corner of his eye. "Those two lads are the Beatles, correct?"

I nodded, "Two of them..."

"What do you like about them?" he asked sincerely.

I absentmindedly glance in Paul and John's direction; as usual, they appear to be bickering childishly.

I sighed, "I don't know. How can you love and hate two people so much at the same time..?"

"Sounds like your feelings are pretty intense..." he noted.

"Yeah..." I felt my voice crack as I looked down, the room suddenly threatening to spin out on me.

"Well, I'll let you go back to them. I'm sorry I stole you..." he said.

Feeling a bit better, I smiled up at him and chuckled, "That's okay, you actually gave me something to think about..."

***

Deciding it was time for a powder room break, I rushed myself across the room. In doing so, I passed by the boys again and overheard their chatter.

"I just can't believe you let some nob sweep her away from us like that!" John chided.

"I just didn't want to make a scene, you were about ready to blow the lid off the place! And she wasn't going to get swept away, here she comes now..." Paul retorted.

"Hey, you two!" I blurted, the champagne making me feel a bit flirtatious.

I felt an odd but pleasant rush of excitement and satisfaction as I witnessed the boys getting flustered at the sight of me. They both gave a slight wave.

As I giggled proudly to myself, I stumbled upon George who was walking out of men's room.

"Hey, George!" I beamed at him.

"Gail, hey!" George's eyes widened as he looked me up and down, "Wow, you look nice..." he glanced shyly to the side.

"Thanks!" I chirped, my face crinkled with happiness.

George must've noticed I was being uncharacteristically cheerful because, though still smiling, he arched his eyebrows in suspicion.

"What have _you_ been up to..?"

"Oh, you know, making friends, loosening up..." I replied in an airy tone. For a split second, I glimpsed back over at John and Paul.

Suddenly understanding, George narrowed his eyes, smirked and shook his head, "You're playing with fire, Greene..."

I smirked back at him as I scandalously placed a finger to my bottom lip, "I am, aren't I?"

***

When I came back out of the powder room, I found that John was there waiting for me. He raised his eyebrows and smiled artfully at me.

"You seem to be having fun," he remarked.

"I am," I affirmed with a grin.

"Excuse me, miss. Care for a broiled oyster?" a waiter lightly shoved a platter of hors d'oeuvres in between us.

"Sure!" I cheerily consented and popped one in my mouth. After chewing for a bit I chuckled, "You know, I would've never been able to have this if I was still with Issac; he was allergic to shellfish..." I swallowed hard, abruptly overcome with emotion as my face drained of all color.

"Issac..." I repeated solemnly in a low tone. Without thinking, I tipped the glass of champagne to my lips.

"Whoa there, girl!" John gently stopped me from taking the shot. "Wouldn't want a repeat of what happened the last time..."

"Who are you, my father!?" I snapped.

John narrowed his eyes craftily at me, "We're supposed to _behave_ , remember..?"

I gave him a fierce look, slowly raising my hands, about ready to wring his neck. John smirked in response, visibly amused at my reaction.

"What? Are you gonna hit me?" he teased, still smirking.

I wanted desperately to say or do something to him but, in the end, all I could do was groan. Turning around in a huff, I walked right into Pattie. Upon seeing her, I was suddenly relieved I had decided to dress to the nines tonight. How did she always end up looking so gorgeous and perfect?

Pattie looked over and instinctively reached out to shake my hand, "Oh, hello Gail! George has told me a lot about you but I don't think we've ever officially spoken! I'm Pattie, George's girlfriend!" she beamed, exposing the adorable gap in her teeth.

"I know," I acknowledged with a tepid smile as our hands touched.

"Would you like to join me in the powder room? I feel like I haven't been able to engage in proper girl-talk in ages! Too much testosterone around here, there is..." she commented, adding a nasally feminine grunt at the end.

I was about to take her up on her offer but then Paul suddenly appeared from behind me. I could feel his fingers lightly graze against my shoulder.

"Are you ladies having a good time?" he asked suavely.

"Indeed," I replied, slightly disoriented.

Pattie's bright, blue eyes suddenly sparkled with intrigue, "Wait, who are you here wi--"

"Okay, Pattie, let's go dance!" George earnestly demanded as he put his arm over Pattie's mouth, dragging her to the dance floor.

Still reeling from my memory of Issac, I turned to Paul.

"Oh, Paul," I whimpered. "I'm here at this beautiful banquet and all I can think about is my flipping ex!"

"Forget that bloody bastard! Tonight, you're with _me_ ," he gripped my hand tightly and led me to the dance floor. I almost swooned right then and there.

As we danced in close quarters, I saw a ravenous look in Paul's eyes I had never seen before.

"What's it going to take to get you out of that dress?" he whispered seductively in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"A lot," I replied firmly, looking him dead in the eye.

Paul sighed, rolled his eyes and gave me a frustrated half-smile, "I figured. You're a tough cookie to crack, you know that?"

"I know," I nodded with a devious grin.

"Ahem, mind if I cut in?" I winced ever so subtly when I heard the sound of John's unmistakable voice. As if my heart weren't already racing fast enough...

"By all means, 'ol chap," Paul responded, presumably content with what he had managed to do to me.

John wasted no time and promptly pressed his chest against mine. His hand slunk gradually down my back and, before I could fully perceive what was happening, he lowered my body for a quick dip. Where on earth were the boys learning all of these moves?

"You're gonna be the death of me, Abbie Greene," he stated in a tone that was both mischievous and serious.

"Ditto," I replied softly, a tad bit uncomfortable with his proximity.

"You know, I didn't even tell Cyn there was an event tonight," he revealed with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes incredulously at him, "And do you not feel guilty about that?"

John shrugged, "Not really..."

"Are you done playing this game, John?" I asked, suddenly exasperated.

"What game, love? I wanna know what game _you're_ playing..."

 _"Me?"_ I barked defensively.

"Yes, _you_. You obviously know what you're doing, dressing and making yourself up like that..."

I chewed my bottom lip and glanced to the side in slight shame. I knew the effect I had on John and Paul, and I wanted to use it to my advantage. I was so used to the boys, and everyone else in my life, always being two steps ahead of me; I just wanted to feel like I had the upper-hand for once.

John snorted, "Don't look so rueful, love," he inched his face closer and murmured in my ear, " _I'm not complaining..._ "

***

Finally, it was time for dinner. There was an enormous selection of delicious, upscale meals; everything from gourmet burgers to lobster. I took my time picking out everything that looked appetizing and then sat down.

Sitting across from me, Brian and the gentleman who had asked for him earlier were looking very cozy, deep in discussion. The nameless man eyed me for a moment, then proceeded to introduce himself.

"Hello, there. My name is Alec Reed from Reed Publishing. I'm looking to get an authorized biography made about the Beatles..." he reached out to grab my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said, rapt by his words.

"We're actually looking to hire fresh, new writing talent for our novel division..." he mentioned.

I perked up, thoroughly enthralled at the thought of this opportunity.

"She's not interested!" I heard Paul's voice flare.

The patrons sitting around the table were aghast.

"Paul!" I scolded him, shocked, hurt and confused at his outburst.

"She's happy with us!" Paul ignored me. "She doesn't need anyone leading her down the wrong path..."

Incensed, I was about to give Paul a piece of my mind. But just as I was about to open my mouth, the entire room went pitch black. Everyone yelped in astonishment.

"Well, we're all gonna die. Tell Ringo I love him..." George cracked dryly.

"There must've been a power outage," Brian inferred.

Urgently, everyone began to leave the establishment. Frantically, I searched for my purse.

"How did I get stuck in this calamity with the Beatles!?" I asked myself in distress.

"You know we're right here, love," Paul joked with a chuckle.

Still mad at him, I scoffed in response. After I found my purse, I felt a hand guide me out the door. Once outside, the bright city lights revealed it was the man who had bought me a drink.

"Thanks," I muttered appreciatively.

"No problem," he replied. "Do you need me to take you home?"

" _I'll_ take her home," Paul declared sternly.

With no energy left to argue, I reluctantly obliged.

***

For most of the car ride, we were dead silent. Eventually, I couldn't hold my tongue over what happened any longer.

"I can't believe you did that, Paul. I thought you understood that I can speak for myself..."

"Bullocks! I'm not letting you go with some strange man to work at his so-called publishing company! These people lie, Gail. They're not always who they say they are..."

"You didn't even let me hear him out, Paul. I think I can pretty well discern if a company is legit on my own..."

"I'm not letting you take that risk! There's already so much on the line for us and I don't wanna lose you..."

"But Pau--"

"You're not speaking to him again, and that's _final_!" Paul fumed.

I sat perfectly still next to him in the front seat, the uncomfortable quietude suffocating us.

Paul then exhaled deeply, moaning softly. "I'm sorry, Gail. I'm just trying to protect you..."

"I know," I said, subdued.

There was another long pause, prompting Paul to switch gears. "Gail, tell me the truth. Do you fancy John..?"

"No!" I exclaimed reflexively. "We're just friends, I swear!"

"Good," Paul nodded in approval. "Because I really like you, Gail..." his voice became low and tinged with desire as he leaned towards me.

In a flash, all of my anger and uncertainty melted away. We shared a long-lasting, passionate, all-encompassing kiss. I felt his hand glide smoothly down the neck of my dress, lightly cupping my breast. In a burning frenzy, he began to kiss me deeper, his tongue begging to go down my throat.

Before things reached peak intensity, I hesitantly pulled away, realizing the car was already parked in front of my flat.

"Goodnight, Paul," I uttered lovingly as I departed.

"Goodnight, Gail," Paul replied heavily, letting out a great sigh.


	11. Whispers of the Heart

At this point, I was admittedly sucked pretty deeply into Paul Land. For the next couple weeks, Paul and I went out every night and spent just about every waking moment of the day together. There was a part of me that knew it was becoming excessive, even a little obnoxious. But every time I heard his melodious voice call my name, any and all sense of judgment I had flew out the window.

"We have such a promising future together, Gail!" Paul proclaimed as we entered the studio.

"I couldn't agree more, Paul..." I giggled, in a daze.

"Just think of all the good things we could have if we close our eyes!" Paul continued excitedly.

I heard George groan in the background. I looked over; he was shaking his head and rolling his eyes hopelessly as he absentmindedly strummed his guitar.

"Hell, we could get married! I've always wanted to move out to the country! We can raise goats and horses, Gail. Doesn't that sound delightful?" Paul mused, beaming to himself.

"Anything you want, sweetie..." I gazed at him in a trance.

Just then, John and Ringo came ambling in. Once again, Ringo let out a big yawn. Yawning was something he had been doing a lot of lately.

"Ahh, good morning all!" he managed to say as cheerfully as he could.

John, who was walking right behind him, shot us a quick glance but said nothing.

"Hey, John..." I greeted anxiously.

John scoffed, "Oh, _'hey John'_ , that's _two_ words you've said to me in two bloody weeks! Must be a new record..."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "John..."

"Don't listen to him, ducky, John's just an ass when he's not the center of attention..." Paul reassured me as he narrowed his eyes at his songwriting partner. He then leaned forward and gave me an affectionate peck on the lips.

 _"Ducky..?"_ I saw George mouth in confusion as I lifted my head back up.

I was scared to look back over at John. I could sense he was seething, it was like I could hear the kettle whistling from his ears. In fact, that was the kettle. I hurriedly served Paul the tea I was making him.

Utterly exhausted, Ringo nearly collapsed at his drum set.

"You alright, mate?" Paul asked his bandmate with the raise of an eyebrow.

Ringo moaned, "I'm up all night every night with Mo tending to the baby. That darn little tyke has got me plumb tired..."

"I can take him off your hands for one night!" I offered sweetly.

Ringo looked up and raised his eyebrows curiously, "Really? You'd do that..?"

"Sure! You and Mo can have a nice night out for yourselves, I'll take care of everything!" I assured him.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this..." Ringo insisted with a vigorous shake of the head.

"I want to! Trust me, you both deserve this..." I said with confident conviction.

Ringo was nearly in tears, "Oh, thank you, Gail! You have no idea how much this means to me!!" he kissed my hand gratefully.

"No problem," I smiled back at him.

When I looked up, John appeared to be in the middle of an eye roll, but he also appeared to be a bit concerned. A moment or so later, Mr. Martin called in George, John and Ringo to do a few overdubs on one of Paul's songs.

With the room left to ourselves, Paul and I continued to discuss our future as we had been doing earlier.

"We can get a dog and play with it on the farm! You know, I've always wanted to have an English Sheepdog. Not _too_ big a dog, of course..." he winked at me.

I chuckled, "That sounds great, Paul! It warms my heart to see you have so much hope for the future..."

"Of course! You're my gal! I knew from the moment I saw you that you were something special..." he remarked with an adorable grin.

He then suddenly pulled me in for a big hug, grasping me tightly. "You're not gonna leave me to become the next Hemingway, are you..?" he asked uneasily.

At that very second, I felt a pit in my stomach. _Is Paul trying to possess and control me the same way Issac did?_

***

"Thank you _so_ much for doing this, Gail, I don't know how on earth we'll make it up to you!" Maureen gushed. Though her brown eyes sparkled with gratitude, I could vividly see the dark rings encircling them.

"Don't worry about it," I stated simply.

"Don't hesitate to call us if you need anything. All the supplies and instructions are in here," Ringo handed me a hefty bag.

"Thanks!" I replied.

"Goodbye, my little pumpkin!" Maureen bubbled emotionally, kissing the infant's forehead.

"We'll be back real soon, champ!" Ringo added cheerily.

"Uh, make sure he gets his bottle every hour, on the hour! Make it every half-hour, just to be safe!" Maureen urged nervously.

"Alright, let's leave the poor girl to it," Ringo smirked as he took Maureen by the hand. Having said their sufficient goodbyes, they were off.

As soon as they left, I instantly regretted my proposal to take care of baby. Zak was already screaming and crying in my arms and he didn't stop for hours. I changed his nappy at least a dozen times before he finally drifted off to sleep.

***

Laying in my own bed, I found myself feeling similarly restless. I was unable to relax or find a comfortable position. My mind drifted to Paul. As vehemently as he had stated that he wouldn't change a thing about me, it seemed he was sneakily trying to do just that. And though I knew that he cared about me, his constant parading of me to John and the others was still something that didn't sit quite right with me.

 _John._ He's always running hot and cold with me; one moment he's positively moonstruck over me, the next he's spouting out angrily at me. I thought back to the ripped entries he had given me, staring at them from across the room as they sat upon my dresser. _Did John really feel this way about me this whole time?_ How did I not notice sooner? Maybe I was so preoccupied with Paul that it never caught my attention.

With all these thoughts swirling in my head, my mind became fried and my eyelids became heavy...

_Suddenly, I'm at the sandwich cafe with Paul._

_"Paul, you're a songwriter," I began. "Do you have any tips I can use for my own writing?"_

_He looked at me intently for a moment, "Well, you said yourself that you would write what's in your heart. What does your heart tell you, darling?"_

_His question echoed inside my head. And all of a sudden, I found myself in front of John._

_"John, you are also a songwriter," I iterated. "Do you have any writing tips for me?"_

_He smirked at me and chuckled, "Just write, love, all the right ideas will come to you! What does your heart tell you?"_

_Again, his question echoed; this time, a bit louder, with Paul's voice intermixed in. Then, all these scenes began to flash rapidly before me: John and I dancing closely at the banquet, John touching my arm right after Neil had come onto me, John patting and winking at me as he left me with the torn out pages, John and I laughing and talking before Ringo had interrupted us. There I was, reliving all of these moments, feeling the same overwhelming sensations all over again. John's voice then began to overpower my subconscious..._

_"You like what you see, love?"_

_"You're gonna be the death of me, Abbie Greene..."_

_"I think about you so much I can't sleep, Abbie..."_

_"You're one in a million!"_

Suddenly, I awoke with a jolt. Zak was crying again. With a pained moan, I got up. Then, my eyes widened. I rushed over to my phone and dialed his number. _John._


	12. The Bird and the Baby

I desperately needed help with the baby. I knew John would be the most knowledgeable on how to take care of him. He charged his way over to my flat as soon as I called. Sitting on the mangy couch in my small living room, holding Zak close to his chest, John sneered playfully at me.

"I'm glad you called. I _knew_ you would be in over your head..." John teased.

"I'm glad, too," I said. "I'm not sure I fed him every hour on the hour like Maureen told me to," I added with a chuckle.

"I'm on it!" John stated, taking the bottle.

As I watched John feed Zak, I couldn't help but notice how good he was with him. It was hard for me to believe John had a son of his own. Maybe there was a sensitive soul under that cold, tough exterior after all...

"John, why aren't you at home with Cynthia?" I asked suddenly.

John looked up at me, narrowing his eyes sternly. He then looked back down sadly. Clearly, I had struck a nerve.

"We don't talk much these days..." he said curtly.

After a long pause, I pried a bit more. "And why is that?"

John sighed miserably, "Things haven't been the same since Julian was born. I leave most of the mother hen stuff to Cyn. I just wiggle my ass, strum my guitar and bring home the dough."

I attempted to stifle a chuckle. How could John crack jokes like that, yet still sound so upset while doing it?

"Truth be told, I'm scared of the damn boy," John continued, snorting lightly. "Imagine that. A father, scared of his own bloody son!" his voice raised bitterly.

I nod thoughtfully, "That must be a drag..."

John narrowed his eyes at my understatement, "And what about you? Why didn't you call Paulie-boy over here to help you? He's surely better with kids than me..."

I faltered for a moment as I glanced down and bit my lip, "I don't know..."

I twiddled my thumbs, an awkward silence filling the room. As much as I tried to avoid eye contact with John, my gaze kept getting drawn to his shiny auburn hair as the cheap lamp overlooked him and Zak.

"The bugs in this dingy flat are gonna fly right into your mouth if you keep staring, love," John pointed out with a smirk.

I chuckled, smiling almost as brightly as the lamp.

"What'cha thinking about?" John asked with a grin.

"You're just...not who I thought you'd be..." I admitted, suddenly taken with his presence.

"Well, what did you think I'd be?" John questioned with a snicker.

"Just...more mean underneath the mean!" I answered with a soft laugh.

"Ha, well! I can tell you you've opened up like a flower since you've started hanging out with us. You used to be the girl who would hide in her office, deathly afraid that someone would find out a bloody thing about you. Now you're confidently striding in your hot green dress, even putting me in my place! It's fucking sexy, Abbie!"

My eyes widened at his intense remarks. I looked down bashfully.

"Uhh, here, do you want to hold him?" John handed Zak to me, frantic to change the topic of conversation.

I smiled weakly at him, "I guess. I don't think he likes me very much. He's a lot quieter when he's with you..."

"Ah, nonsense! He just cries out 'cuz he wants attention!" John chuckled.

"So, like you?" I baited as I simpered knowingly.

"Aha, there you go again!" John pointed, strangely excited.

We sat quietly for a few minutes when all of a sudden John perked up again.

"Abbie, do you want kids?"

My mouth fell slightly open, "Well, Issac and I never talked abo--"

"I asked if _you_ want kids..." John pressed.

"No," I stated simply.

"Oh, really? Why not?" John asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, "I've just never been that interested..."

John nodded in understanding, "Well, for what it's worth, Zak is sleeping quite peacefully in your arms right now..."

I looked down in shock, I had forgotten he was in my arms. He, in fact, did look completely at peace. John and I exchanged a smile. Though I still didn't want kids, it was nice to know they didn't completely hate me.

***

After I put Zak in his cot, I leaned against the railing and stared down at him in anguish. The baby was no longer causing me trouble; however, I could not say the same about my own innermost feelings. Why _did_ I invite John all the way over here, away from his own home and family?

Despite what he may have said regarding Paul's way with children, I knew John had the most fully developed paternal instinct. In that sense, he was the most logical person to call. Still, I couldn't help feeling a bit guilty, almost as if I wasn't being completely honest with him or myself about my true intentions.

I asked myself how I ended up here in the first place. I thought back to when I first met the boys. I was a naive girl of only 19. Brian had been showing me all around the studio, saving the Beatles for last. I still remember the curious looks they all gave me; they appeared to be almost as innocent and wide-eyed as I was. As a band, these four lads from Liverpool weren't people I idolized or even knew much about. I wouldn't start to work at EMI full time until a couple years later.

At first, my only intimate tie with the group was through the music I saw them work on. I was initially drawn to Paul because he seemed the most independent, as evidenced by the song he started working on earlier this year. Yesterday, then known as 'scrambled eggs', quickly became his baby; he would pick and proddle at it incessantly.

While everyone else soon grew annoyed at his persistence and perfectionism, I was thoroughly impressed by his passion and drive. The lyrics of the song especially stood out to me. He was writing from a certain place of forthrightness and vulnerability there that I hadn't seen from Paul before. There he was, incredibly comely and clean-cut, living his dream and singing from the heart -- the very pinnacle of perfection.

Of course, at the time, I wasn't able to verbally express this to him. Incredibly unsure of myself, I was never someone who felt fully understood by anybody. It wasn't until I started to get to know the boys on a friendlier level that I realized they all genuinely wanted to get to know me better. Through spending time with them, I began to feel more comfortable exposing deeper parts of myself.

"Everything alright, love?" I heard John ask, snapping me out of my pensive state.

My eyes widened a bit, "Um, yeah, just reflecting..."

John chuckled, "Well, mind if I join you?"

I gulped, "Not at all..."

John smirked, "Why do you always look like I'm about to slap you?"

"I don't think you're above doing that..." I replied seriously.

"Nonsense, I'd never lay a hand on you!" John exclaimed, his voice firm and sincere. "...I'm not like the other men in your life..."

I looked away quickly, gripping the edge of the cot. "Did Paul tell you..?"

John shook his head, "I connected the dots..."

I could feel the tears form in my eyes as I exhaled shakily. I didn't want to be this frail person anymore. How could I ever be the fully-realized woman I wanted to be if I let little things like this stir me?

"Don't cry, Abbie..." John cooed, sighing gently. "God, I'm such a halfwit!" he chided himself as he smacked his forehead.

"It's not your fault, John..." I assured him, wiping my eyes. And it was true. I let all of this happen.

John's eyes stared intensely into mine, "Goddamn it Abbie, I wish...I just wish..."

"What? What is it, John?" I asked, blinking the tears out of my system.

John sighed in exasperation, "I wish I could have...been there. At the right place and the right time. I could've saved you from that. Your coward ex never bloody did!"

I shrugged, "I didn't know you then, John. That's just not how things played out..."

John groaned, "You didn't have to go through this alone, Abbie..."

"But I'm not alone now, John. I met _you_..." I stated wholeheartedly.

Choked up, John fidgeted and brought a fist to his mouth as he looked away for a few seconds. As he slowly inched his head back around, I caught a glimpse of the raw John. For once, not putting up any kind of front.

Suddenly, I felt myself leaning towards him. My heart was thumping so hard against my chest it was leaving me breathless. John eagerly followed my lead, his eyes wide and loving.

Once I realized what I was doing, I let out a panicked shriek. This, of course, woke up the baby, leaving us both a frustrated mess.

John said nothing but shot me a fierce glance. As if to say, _"Really? You had to go and Gail this up?"_

Unfortunately, I most certainly did. Frantically picking up Zak, I got the hell out of there. I spent a few minutes just gently rocking him back to sleep in the kitchen, while also reeling back from the intense bout of emotions I had just experienced which seemed to hit me like a truck.

Soon afterward, John appeared in the doorway.

"I'm gonna show myself out, Abbie. You seem to have the baby under control now..." he said somewhat regrettably.

I nodded anxiously, "Um, yeah. I think that's best..."

As he walked out, he looked solemnly back for a second. "The _death_ of me, Abbie, you're gonna be the death of me..."


	13. Revelations

Paul was being less receptive, taking fewer of my calls and was becoming distant. However, he did manage to schedule a brunch for the two of us. The weather was officially chilly now. From where I sat, I watched as the crisp autumn breeze blew the fallen leaves around.

"I'm so glad you've stood by me, Gail! I know it's a lot to ask but it would really make me happy if you'd put those writing dreams to rest..." Paul prattled to me.

"Mhm," I mumbled, not really paying attention. My mind kept wandering back to the moment when I _ALMOST FUCKING KISSED JOHN_.

"I mean, there's no career for you in that anyway. You'll be much happier living with me on the farm, just the two of us! Doesn't that sound like the nicest thing!?" Paul beamed, mostly to himself.

"Uh-huh," I answered weakly; I knew the drill by now.

The truth was that Paul and writing, two things that meant so goddamn much to me a few days ago, were the furthest thing from my mind at this moment. After our intimate encounter while taking care of Zak, I had avoided John more than ever. There was but one instance in which we interacted in this past week, an instance I apprehensively kept flashing back to.

_"Abbie, Abbie! I have something I wanna show you!" John ran over to me in excitement._

_My eyes widened and I began to fidget anxiously, "Um, John, can this wait..?"_

_"No, it can't wait! I was struggling with a writer's block, but then I thought of you and everything came to me...came over me, I should say. I wrote you a song -- it's beautiful, Abbie, and I want you to hear it!"_

_"John..." I persisted, my voice wavering._

_Just then, Paul came through the door. "You ready, darling..?" he hummed cheerfully._

_I nodded, "Yes, I'm ready Paul..." I let Paul lock his arm in mine and he swept me away._

_As we were almost out the door, I looked back at John pitifully. His eyes bored intensely into mine, stewing with a stark mixture of hurt and anger, a look and a combination that frightened me._

"Are you alright, love? You seem distracted..."

Paul's soft yet stern voice brought me back to reality. I realized I had just been staring out into space the whole time, pushing the food around my plate. I probably wasn't being great company.

I shook my head, trying to will my worries away. I looked up at him, shame-faced. "I'm fine, sorry..."

"Want to get some fresh air?" he offered tenderly.

Gratefully, I nodded. Taking in the fresh air did help some, but every time I started to calm down, a thought or a memory of John would pop peskily into my head. He sure did have a way of messing things up. _Messy like his hair...his hair really needed to be cut, it was always covering those piercing, golden-brown eyes of his. Man, did those eyes always know how to melt me into a puddl_ \-- I stopped myself. _WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME!?_

As I awkwardly face-palmed in the middle of our stroll, I turned to face Paul. His eyes gazed deeply and solemnly into mine. He looked as if he wanted desperately to tell me something but he couldn't find the words. He quickly looked away and bit his lip guiltily.

Saying nothing, I continued to walk beside him, staring at him intently.

"Gail...there's something you should know..." he began hesitantly.

"Yes, Paul..?" I gently prompted him.

He then suddenly turned away and groaned in agony, his hands tightly pressed against his face.

"What? What is it, Paul?" I asked as my hand innocently grazed his arm in concern.

At the feeling of my touch, Paul uneasily peeked an eye at me. He then abruptly switched gears and plastered an exaggerated smile on his face, eagerly taking my hands and facing me.

"Gail, I care deeply about you, you know that right?" he assured me, his tone confident and sincere.

I _did_ know. I nodded, "Yes, Paul..."

"And everything I say or do...I do it because deep down I'm bloody _terrified_ of losing you," he continued as his voice broke and his facade began to fade, his expression becoming dark and wary. "I mean, I already almost lost you once before..."

"Wait, what!?" I shrieked. Which time was he referring to?

"That day, when we were all stripped down in the park, the same day your imbecile beau broke up with you. Eppy was _real_ close to releasing you that day, but we all begged him not to let you go. Especially John, he was close to crying himself..." Paul explained, stating the last part rather nonchalantly.

My stomach dropped. I could hardly believe what was hearing. Brian was right. The boys _did_ care about me. _John_ genuinely cared about me.

Paul grasped my hand tighter, "I really want to make this work. I don't want to live a life without you in it..."

I looked up at him with tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Paul was fully aware that I was slipping away. He knew he was losing me, and not just to my writing aspirations. I knew I was losing Paul, too, and yet we both were still trying so desperately hard to hang on the thread that tied us in the first place.

A sudden realization then hit me, "I don't want to live a life without you, either..."

Paul's sparkling doe eyes expanded and my heart quickened. He hungrily pulled me in for a passionate and succulent kiss. All at once, everything and every thought seemed to disappear as I felt my feet leave the ground and I floated in a heavenly bliss. It was carnal. It was fervent. It felt like it was the kiss to end all kisses. Finally, he released me and we both looked emotionally into each other's eyes.

A touch of a smirk graced Paul's features, "Come on, let's head on back!"

***

Still flushed and excited from Paul's overpowering show of affections, I stepped into the studio in a daze. I immediately noticed the room was unusually dark and eerily quiet. Suddenly, I felt a great sense of unease overcome me.

"You sure were out a while, eh?" his voice cut into my trance coldly yet casually.

I winced. Of course John was just coolly waiting for me to get back.

"What do you want, John?" I asked sternly.

"Oh, I'm surprised you even asked!" John exclaimed bitingly, pacing the floor. "Considering everything in the whole entire bloody goddamn universe has to revolve around _you_!"

I scoffed a bit and chuckled bitterly, "Oh, really!? Revolve around _me_? You know, maybe you oughta look in the mirror sometime, and not just because you dreadfully need a haircut..." I smirked and leaned towards him, narrowing my eyes.

John fumed and stormed away from me, "Ugh, I swear! You're _just_ like him!! You stand there quietly in the corner judging people and picking everybody apart! God, maybe you two _are_ perfect for each other!"

I shrugged helplessly, "Gosh, John. What is it about me being happy that threatens you so much..?"

John continued to pace frantically and looked to be on the brink of insanity, "AGHH, you don't get it! You still don't fucking get it! You know, if only stupid George had asked _me_ 'truth or dare,' oh, the things I would've dared to say and do to you..." he mindlessly inched towards me, the space between us quickly closing.

"John...what's with you!? You're scaring me..." I said shakily.

Suddenly, John realized how he was coming across and he calmed down a bit. There was a long, disquieting pause.

"Abbie, you asked me what I wanted..." he began calmly.

I bit my lip and nodded slightly, anxious for him to continue.

"Ditch Macca. Be with me." he blankly ordered.

I put my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrow in offense, "...Don't _I_ get a say in this?"

"No," he replied.

"Well, why not?" I asked.

"How can I trust you to make the right choice when you've just been doing what your daddy tells you all your life!?" he retorted angrily.

"Excuse me..!?" I cried out defensively.

"You heard me," John replied simply.

"How can you say those things to me!? You're such a _child_ , John Lennon!" I screamed, tears running down my face.

John shook his head in bitter amusement, "I don't see how you have any room to call _me_ a child..."

My hands tightened into fists as I leaned towards him, "I _love_ Paul, and we're going to build a really happy life together..." I emphasized the word love, knowing it would get to him.

"He's _not_ gonna leave Jane..." John remarked solemnly.

"How the hell do you know!? And what business do you have saying anything!?" I bit back.

"I fucking know my best friend, Abbie! Do you really think he sees you as anything more than just a prize to show off!? It's all a competition to him and he's just happy he's winning!"

These words, flying thoughtlessly off of John's tongue, brutally wounded me. My heart felt like it was being stabbed multiple times with a hammer.

"You don't mean these things," I sobbed softly. "You're only saying them because you're hurt, hurt that I rejected you!"

John laughed airily, "Oh-ho, rejected me!? Really?" he leaned over, face-to-face with me, lowering his voice. "'Cuz when I look in your eyes, I _don't_ see rejection..."

I hesitated for a brief second but I held my ground, staring incredulously into his merciless eyes. "You have a wife and kid, John, do you ever even think of them!? Cynthia doesn't deserve this, she doesn't deserve you! We both know this is all just a game and pretty soon you'll be sick of playing it!"

"Oh, you fucking think you know it _all_ , don't you Abbie!? You think you've gotten to the bottom of all my feelings and intentions! Well, you're right! I _don't_ mean half the shit I say when I'm yelling at you and I _am_ fucking hurt! But this most certainly isn't a _game_ to me..." he faltered as his face trembled and the tears began to flow. "Abbie, don't you see!? I'm madly in love with you!!!"

"You say that to every bird you shag!!" I countered. "You don't think I've noticed the way you've wooed every woman who's stepped into this studio and swept them off their feet? You tell them all the right things until you get bored of them and then you cast them aside! As if they never existed! I'm not an idiot, John, I know that's what's happening here!"

"We already went over this, Abbie, you're _DIFFERENT!_ " John seethed, clearly exasperated from our conversation.

 _You're different._ Such a cliche line.

_Yet why did I believe him when he said it?_

***

"I'd like to perform a song I wrote!" John stated collectedly with a hint of enthusiasm.

Mr. Martin turned around and looked blankly at him. "Alright, John. Let's hear it!"

"I thought you'd never ask..." John said with a small, mischievous smile. He eyed pointedly in my direction, making sure I was listening. "I wrote this song about a girl. Not just _any_ girl, but she knows this, and she loves to throw it in me face..."

With that subtle introduction out of the way, he began to strum his guitar, his boyish smirk quickly turning to a pained grimace.

_Is there anybody going to listen to my story_   
_All about the girl who came to stay?_   
_She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry_   
_Still, you don't regret a single day_

_Ah, girl, girl, girl_

_When I think of all the times I tried so hard to leave her_   
_She will turn to me and start to cry_   
_And she promises the earth to me and I believe her_   
_After all this time I don't know why_

_Ah, girl, girl, girl_

_She's the kind of girl who puts you down_   
_When friends are there,_   
_You feel a fool_   
_When you say she's looking good_   
_She acts as if it's understood._   
_She's cool, ooh, ooh, ooh_

_Ah, girl, girl, girl_

_Was she told when she was young that pain would lead to pleasure?_   
_Did she understand it when they said_   
_That a man must break his back to earn his day of leisure?_   
_Will she still believe it when he's dead?_

_Ah, girl, girl, girl_

Everyone in the room clapped, thoroughly impressed with his work. Knowingly, I walked over towards to him, my hands on my hips.

I raised my eyebrow, "More vague song lyrics?"

John simply shrugged in response, "Hm."

He then walked away with everyone else, leaving just me and George in the room.

"Don't pay him too much mind..." George assured me.

"I don't," I replied, smiling weakly. "Hey, have you seen Paul?"

George shook his head, "Not since this morning, no. You can try one of the spare rooms, he could be rehearsing..."

I smiled a bit more brightly, "Thanks!" After such a long, emotionally agonizing day, I couldn't wait to just forget about everything and lay my tired head on Paul's chest.

***

I checked room after room. I was beginning to worry that maybe something had happened to him. I then heard strange noises behind one of the closed doors. Slowly, I slid the door open, peering in cautiously.

"Oh, you're so good to me, Jane..." I heard Paul moan.

 _Jane._ Did I fucking hear that right!? To my utter horror, I heard her silky voice respond.

"I know exactly what you like, Paul..." she cooed.

In a mindless rage, I rammed the door open. My heart must've skipped a million beats as I witnessed my greatest fear come to fruition.

I tried to scream, but my voice wasn't coming to me. I just stood there, pale white, stammering in shock. I locked eyes with Jane. She gave me the same stern look she had given me earlier but this time with a hint of a smug smile. This smile instantly told me she knew what was going on, she knew all along, and she didn't intend to let it go any further.

Paul looked unbearably ashamed, like he had been caught with his own hand down his pants instead of Jane's, his face red and breaking into a profuse sweat. "Gail, I can explain, I -"

"Save it!" I screeched, finally finding my voice. "Paul, I gave my heart to you! I trusted you! How fucking _could_ you!?"

Paul was stricken with panic, "Gail, please, just listen to me for one moment! Jane came back from her movie, one thing led to another, I wanted to tell you this was going on but I didn't know how...I didn't want to _lose_ you..."

I leaned in closer, my voice grave and hoarse. "Well, now you _have_..."


	14. Within You, Without You

For the next couple weeks, I avoided the boys just as I had in the beginning. When I had initially discovered what Paul had done to me, I felt sick to my stomach. This feeling plagued me for several days. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even bring myself to cry. I couldn't keep down any food without throwing it back up. Every time I tried to drift into a peaceful slumber, my mind was flooded with hurt, anger and guilt.

Had it all been nothing more than a rebound for the both of us? Had I sexually deprived Paul so much that he couldn't resist Jane the second she came back from her movie? I tossed and turned in agony, the scene of their transgression replaying in my head for the hundredth time that night alone.

The more I thought about it, however, the more I felt like I got exactly what I deserved. After all, had I not come between Paul and Jane myself in the first place? Regardless of their issues as a couple, Paul was still Jane's man and she had every right to get a hold of him. Likewise, it made sense for Paul to eventually run back to her; the history, the affinity, Paul's heart, even his music, it was all there with her.

Groaning, I tossed again. Even if logically it made sense for Paul to go back to Jane, he still manipulated me into starting something with him and he kept the truth from me. All this when I was already weak and easily impressionable from my break up. He had played me. But then again, I have to admit I was playing Paul too; I had kissed him first, drunk or not, and I was withholding and denying my true feelings about John.

 _Oh boy._ John. I turned again, this time laying on my back. I felt a shameful twinge in the pit of my stomach. There wasn't any doubt that I had been playing him big time, messing with his feelings and taking them for granted. I know I had pushed him to his breaking point. Even though he was kind of being an ass the other day when we fought, he did end up being kind of right.

The only point he made that wasn't entirely accurate was when he implied that Paul didn't genuinely care about me. I knew this to be untrue. Paul did care, albeit in his own controlling and hurtful way, not unlike my father. But knowing that he cared made me feel even worse; Paul _knew_ that getting re-involved with Jane behind my back would hurt me and yet he went ahead and did it anyway, that was the most painful thing.

Mulling it over, I acknowledged that I needed to take responsibility for some of my actions and behavior. Everything unraveled in a harsh but realistic manner based on the faulty decisions I was making. It all somehow added up, but I was left feeling extremely bitter nonetheless.

In truth, my situation with the boys wasn't the only thing that was troubling me. I tossed once more, taking a quick glance at the calendar that was perched on my bedside. It was 12:01 AM. _That day._ The anniversary of the day my mum died. Yes, _that day._ I always found myself feeling ill around this time, and this year was no exception.

***

That morning, I trudged to work as I usually did. My hair was a frizzy mess and there were several dark circles under my eyes. I was in a daze, going through the motions, hardly aware of where I was or what was happening. Seemingly as soon as I stepped outside my office, I locked eyes with Neil Aspinall.

"I heard about what happened with Paul, you walking in on him and Jane and all..." he bluntly stated.

Immediately, my brow furrowed. As if I could forget how he tried to take advantage of me the last time my heart was broken from Issac.

Heh. _Issac._ Maybe he had been right all along about the Beatles; maybe they were nothing but magnets for trouble after all...

"Listen," Neil's voice snapped me out of my musings. "I know I was wrong to instantly go after you that day when you were feeling vulnerable, and I'm deeply sorry about that, but I do still really like you..." he ventured to reach out and touch my shoulder.

I flinched. I had already made a long string of bad decisions related to men, I wasn't about to make another one.

"Neil, I do accept your apology, but with all due respect, aren't you friends with the boys? Why do you still attempt to get with me even after everything that's gone down with them? And how do you think that would make _me_ look?"

Neil shrugged solemnly, "I guess I just like you _that_ much..."

I looked intently into Neil's eyes. It was hard to gauge what his true intentions were. Finally, I simply bit my lip and said, "If you truly like me, then you'll know that I need my space right now. I'm clearly not in the right mindset for a relationship at this time..."

With that, I took one last look at him and walked away.

***

As I sat at my desk, lost in my job, I surprisingly began to feel a bit better. The busywork Brian had assigned to me was actually a welcome distraction. Thoughts of the boys and my mother still tugged at my insides, but I was able to ignore it just long enough to be productive. Naturally, however, it was only a matter of time before I felt the unmistakable flutter of my heart and the pit in my stomach.

I looked up, of course.

"John, how did you get in here?" I asked, a hint of defensiveness in my tone.

"You left the door wide open..." he replied as he glanced to the side, smirking.

I looked over. The door was wide open as John had just pointed out. I guess I absentmindedly forgot to close it. Looking down, I sighed in exasperation.

Suddenly, his face fell to a tender, more serious expression. "I was actually on my way to see you anyway..."

I bit my lip and widened my eyes expectantly, "...Oh?"

There was an awkward lull for a moment where neither of us said anything. He looked down at me and saw how tense and frazzled I looked.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" he sympathetically proposed.

Silently, I nodded.

***

Neither of us breathed a word as we ambled aimlessly around the perimeter of the studio. Eventually, we wound up in Regent's Park, relatively nearby. The scenery, as one would expect, was absolutely gorgeous. The trees were all at their peak autumn colors and there was a satisfying crunch of the leaves beneath our feet.

Alas, my mind was still too clouded with recent events for me to enjoy and take in my surroundings to the fullest extent. Instead, my head hung low and I felt a tight lump in my throat.

"I missed you," John said suddenly, almost in a whimper.

I winced, pausing briefly in my tracks. He was not making this any easier. "I've...been around..." I uttered tentatively.

John nodded, "But you haven't really been _around_ around..." he stopped and faced me, concern written on his countenance.

All at once, my emotions began to suffocate me. My eyes shut tightly and I gazed downward, not able to make eye contact with John. "I've just had...a lot on my mind..."

John smiled weakly at me, "It's okay, you can let it out, love..."

Before I knew it, I pulled him in and began sobbing hysterically, uncontrollably, into John's chest. "I'M _SORRY_ , JOHN!" I wailed. "GOD, I'VE BEEN _SUCH_ A FOOL..."

John chuckled slightly as he held me in his arms, "You're not the fool, love, I am! I let you slip through me fingers! I'm no better than your bloody ex, goddamnit, and Lord knows _he_ didn't know what he was missing..."

Suddenly, my mind made the connection. " _...didn't know what he was missing..._ " _You don't know what you're missing._ Was John referencing my 'bloody' ex in his song?

Pushing that thought aside for the time being, I released John and turned my back on him, noisily wiping my nose with my hand.

"It happened today, you know..." I said gravely.

John appeared confused for a moment but then his eyes widened as he instinctively understood what I was referring to. "Your mum..?"

I nodded, fighting back more tears in my eyes.

"I figured you had lost someone. From the start, I could tell that you'd been through a lot. Something about your face, especially your eyes, there's a hardness about them..." John remarked affirmatively.

"I get that a lot," I mumbled softly as I continued to nod.

There was another momentary lull in the conversation. I could hear the faint winds rustling the branches on the trees.

"So, how did it happen?" John asked brusquely.

"It was an accident. She got ran over by a car..." I explained blankly.

All of a sudden, John's face went pale white. He looked stricken, as if he might get sick.

My eyes widened with concern, "What?"

"I...lost me mum the same way..." he revealed, his voice breaking.

My breath got caught in my throat, "...Oh..."

I wasn't sure what to do or say. I knew how awful it was, he knew how awful it was. There was no magic wand, no words, nothing that could make it better.

"I still remember her vividly. She sometimes comes to me in my dreams..." John divulged.

"I don't remember much about my mum, only how she dressed. I was only five when she died. I know she was sweet and kind..." I offered pathetically.

"They always are until they're taken away from you..." John reflected bitterly.

I felt uncomfortable. My mother's death was something I rarely spoke aloud about. It was like a forbidden topic with my father. I had tried my best to block out the brief time she was in my life, even though they were the happiest times I'd ever known.

"You know, I had felt this strong connection to Paul because, as you probably know, he lost his mother as well..." I elucidated. "Now that I know that you went through it too and we all have that in common, it kind of explains...some things..."

John chuckled, "Yeah, mummy and daddy issues tend to dictate the bums we're attracted to..."

I laughed, regaining emotional stability.

John then abruptly switched gears, "You know, I may have written that song _Nowhere Man_ for your bloody ex, but now I realize that _I'm_ the flippin' Nowhere Man. I don't actually know where I'm going in life, where I'm gonna end up. I just feel like I'm flailing, bloody useless!"

"Nonsense! You're _far_ from bloody useless! The power is within you, remember?" I simpered, nudging him slightly.

John smiled at me in response, his eyes sparkling as he recalled one of our early conversations. Those words had really helped me in the beginning and I never forgot them.

His eyes then took on a serious expression and he gazed at me intently, "Abbie, how long has it been since you've made love?"

"John..." I sighed sadly.

"I'm serious! Come back to my place! We can play monopoly!" John offered eagerly.

"John, I can't..." I urged, my voice full of regret.

"Come on, it'll be great! I can take you with me to Liverpool and you can meet my Aunt Mimi!" John prattled excitedly.

"John! You have a wife and son to tend to!" I harshly reminded him.

"So?" John spat.

I shook my head in disbelief. If coming between Paul and Jane ended in disaster, I knew way better than to come between a married couple.

"It's wrong!" I exclaimed in a hushed tone.

Suddenly, John pulled me in for a long, sweet, gentle kiss. It wasn't rough or heavy, our lips just touched softly. His snog was not at all what I had envisaged, but somehow more perfect than I ever could've imagined. Finally, his lips left mine.

"Does _that_ feel wrong?" he asked in a slow, assured voice.

At that moment, it was like a bomb dropped. I had felt so good just a minute ago and now I was panicking. My heart raced and I started hyperventilating. I couldn't think, so I just ran. Frantically, I fled the premises and didn't stop until I reached EMI studios.

***

At this point, I knew I desperately needed some guidance. Luckily, I knew exactly who to turn to. George is someone who has always had my back. I knew I could count on him for honest, practical advice. Thankfully, I didn't need to search high and low for him, as he was right where I thought he'd be: in the main studio, plucking his guitar.

He looked up at me and smiled shyly as soon as he heard me come in. I smiled back, relieved to see him.

"Well, well. This is a pleasant surprise! I feel like I haven't seen you in days..." he expressed with a smirk.

"You probably haven't," I guiltily admitted.

"So, what's going on?" he asked curiously.

I sighed, feeling all of my troubles flood back over me. "I think I'm falling for John, but I still have feelings for Paul. I don't know what to do..." I moped in a small voice.

George rolled his eyes and groaned softly, "I knew it was trouble when Paul started flirting with you. And then when John joined in...shit, I knew it would end badly..."

"Well, you were right..." I declared sadly.

"I honestly think you can do better..." George stated genuinely.

I skeptically raised an eyebrow, "You think?"

"Yeah," George nodded. "Frankly, I see you doing bigger things than this. I don't think you were destined to be a secretary all your life..."

I pondered his words for a moment. Destiny is a funny thing. Some people believe in it, blowing with the wind, always ensured that they will end up in the right place. I wasn't sure what I believed.

"I'm just so confused," I pined. "My heart and mind are splitting me in two. I think I know what I want, but I don't know how to make everyone happy!"

George knowingly lifted a finger, "See, that's your problem, Gail. You don't think for yourself. You're always letting men dictate your life."

I couldn't exactly disagree with that. I shrugged, "So, what do I do?"

"The answer is simple, Gail, it's right in front of you. Just _think for yourself_." George reiterated.

"Think for myself?"

"Think for yourself. And don't worry so much about making everyone else happy. Worry about your own happiness, for once..." George explained further.

Suddenly, I felt enlightened. "Gee, thanks George! I'm surprised you don't judge me more for the way I've been acting..."

George raised his shoulders dismissively, "Eh, I can't judge too much. I mean, I'm in love with Maureen..."

My eyes bugged out of my head in shock, "What!?"

"What!?" George repeated in an attempt to divert.

I was astonished. Why would George give up a knock-out like Pattie for someone relatively plain like Maureen? I guess her cooking really is that good...

Deciding I was better off pretending I hadn't heard this information, I proceeded to smile and show myself out.

"Thanks again, George!" I tittered.

I began to merrily skip away but then I quickly hurried back to clarify something. "Wait, by taking your advice, aren't I just letting a man order me around again?"

George smiled broadly and chuckled, "Bye, Gail..."

After so much heartache and suffering, it was all finally starting to become clear. At long last, I knew in my heart what I had to do. The hardest part now would be breaking it to them.


	15. This Bird Has Flown

Thinking for myself was something I hadn't done for a long time. It was both a scary and exhilarating feeling. My heart pounded with each step I took towards the phone in the small studio kitchen. Though there was indeed a working phone in my office I could use, this was something I wanted everyone in the room to hear.

Suddenly, I locked eyes with them. Paul and John, the poor things, like a pair of petrified deer caught in the headlights. They both stood side by side, staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes. This was the first real contact I had made with Paul since I had caught him in the act with Jane, and I hadn't seen John since I had ran off after our kiss. Needless to say, there was an awkward tension between the three of us. But then, when was there not?

Somehow, in spite of everything, I was able to flash a brief smile at them before I stretched the long cord and placed the receiver to my ear. My stomach did small jumps as I heard the ring on the other end. I glanced anxiously down at my feet. When I looked back up, I saw Paul right in front of me on the verge of a breakdown.

"Gail, about the other day, I _really_ didn't want you to find out that wa--"

"It's fine, Paul." I interrupted, tepidly dismissing him.

"No, I mean it, Gail. I haven't gotten a bloody wink of sleep since that day. All I've been able to think about is how badly I fucked things up with someone who means the goddamn world to me..."

"I said it's _fine_ , Paul." I insisted tersely. The truth was that I didn't want to hear it. I wasn't at a stage where I could forgive him yet. Even if I could plainly see the fervid remorse in his dark doe eyes.

"Who are you on the phone with, love?" John asked, approaching me with concern.

Looking them both dead in the eye, I simply replied, "My father..."

At that, John and Paul froze, perturbed at the implications. We all fleetingly exchanged a wary look before he finally picked up.

"H-hey Dad," I began hesitantly. "There's something I have to tell you..."

"What? What is it, honey?" he coaxed.

"Well," I bit my lip, quickly deciding how I wanted to preface this. By now, several people were gathering around, including George and Ringo. But my sights were set on John and Paul.

"There comes a time when you need to know when to walk away. And sure, it might hurt in the moment, but in the end it's what's best for everyone involved..." my eyes stared intently into theirs, making sure they got the message.

"What are you saying, Gail?" my dad asked uneasily.

"I want to be a writer. I'm quitting my secretary job at EMI. I landed a paid intern position at Reed Publishing..." I stated.

All at once, the entire room reacted; everyone's jaws simultaneously fell to the floor in shock. Ringo's eyes popped out of his head in confusion. George seemed mightily impressed as a chuckle and an expletive escaped his lips. Paul and John, alas, looked the most shattered by the news as they gasped loudly and broke out into a pained sweat. I, myself, was equally flabbergasted and dumbfounded at the words that just came out of my mouth.

"WHAT!!??" my dad yowled. I almost chuckled; at least this time I was able to premeditate my father's reaction.

"YOU SELFISH BITCH!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE THROWING AWAY!?!? YOU WON'T LAST A SINGLE DAY OUT THERE, NOT _ONE_ DAY, I TELL YOU!!"

"Dad, the way you address me is disrespectful and inappropriate. I'm your daughter and I'm an adult. This is my dream and, if you love me, the least you could do is accept it, if not support it..." I explained calmly.

"WHY WOULD I SUPPORT YOUR DEAD-END DREAMS!? I'M YOUR FATHER AND I KNOW BEST, SO STOP PRICKING AROUND AND BE A GOOD LASS FOR ONCE..."

"Just let me take this chance, Dad. I promise, I'll be alright..." I replied, trying to get through to the old bloke who I knew was just scared for me.

I sensed he was starting to relax, "Listen Gail, I don't know what boneheaded ideas those goddamn Beatles are putting into your hea--"

Now it was my turn to snap, "You leave the goddamn Beatles out of this! If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have had the courage to stand up for myself! They taught me how _real_ men are supposed to act! Sure, they might not be perfect -- they mess up sometimes, and so do I -- but you, Dad, you'll never be half the man each of them are!"

"ABIGAIL GENEVIEVE GREENE, I SWEAR, YOU'VE LOST YOUR BLOODY MIND IN LONDON! COME BACK HOME, THIS INSTANT!!!" my dad roared.

"No," I firmly asserted.

"No..!?" my dad repeated in disbelief.

"I'm done letting you control me, Dad. I'm doing what my heart tells me for once. That's what mum would have wanted..." I expressed solemnly.

"GAIL, ENOUGH OF THESE OUTRAGEOUS NOTIONS! YOU'RE A LADY, YOU MUST DO AS YOU'RE TOLD..." he barked.

"Bye, Dad. That's all I wanted to tell you..." And with that, I hung up, heaving a deep sigh of relief. Afterward, there was a momentary hush that filled the room.

George was the first to break the silence with a slow clap. "Woo-hoo! Way to go, Greene!" he cheered.

"Well, Gail, I would have preferred you breaking this news to me in a more _direct_ way but...I guess this works..." Brian said with a dismayed shrug.

Paul, looking visibly panicked, frantically ran up to me. "Gail, if what happened between us is the reason you're leaving..." his voice was shaky and distraught. "God, I'll never forgive myself!" he began to tear up.

My heart dropped at the sight of him and my face softened. I was supposed to be mad at him and yet he was giving me this devastated look, as if he were a kicked puppy.

"That's not why I'm quitting," I assured him. "I'm not doing this to get back at you or spite you, I'm doing this for _me_..." I managed to smile reassuringly at him.

Reluctantly, Paul nodded. Though he still looked upset, I could tell he understood. As he stepped aside, I spotted John sitting still at the edge of a speaker. He was looking downward with a dark, almost pensive expression. Finally, his eyes met mine.

"So, you're really leaving me, huh?" John chuckled dejectedly, smiling an aching smile as he slowly stood up.

The words he spoke sent a shooting pain through my pulses. "I _have_ to..." I replied halfheartedly.

"I don't know what to say, Abbie, heh, this is all happening so fast..." John grimaced as he rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to maintain his composure.

"I know, but it's something that I need to do, an option I need to explore for myself. I can't fully explain it, but in my heart I know that it's right..." I responded, trying to remain optimistic.

John snorted, "Well, if there's _one_ good thing that came out of this, it's seeing you tell your dad off like a badass..." his eyes sparkled just a touch as he smirked.

To that, I tittered, a bit stunned at myself.

"I didn't even know you had it in you!" he added in amazement.

"Neither did I..." I confessed.

***

I packed all my things in a daze as I prepared to vacate the premises. A part of me was in denial that all of this was actually happening. Though I was certainly excited to begin a new chapter in my life, I couldn't help but privately lament what I would be leaving behind.

Brian was the first to receive me when I came out of the office. His eyes were stern, as they tended to be, but his smile was genuine.

"So, you've been with us about 3 years..." he remarked.

I nodded solemnly, "Indeed..."

"Well, we've enjoyed having you every moment of it..." Brian expressed sincerely.

I gazed at him gratefully, "Thank you, sir! My experience here has been nothing short of incredible! This opportunity meant a lot to me and through it all you've treated me with the utmost respect and dignity. I'll never forget that moving forward..."

Brian beamed, sharply inclining his chin. "It was a pleasure, Gail..."

After he left, I felt content for a brief moment. Alas, it all came to a jolting halt. I winced slightly, knowing I needed to massively brace myself for what I was about to undergo. The time had come, for once and for all, to say goodbye to the boys.

***

First, I stopped by one of the rooms in the studio where Paul was writing and recording privately. Taking a cautious peek inside, I saw him absentmindedly strumming his guitar with a distant look on his face.

I sighed. Things with Paul were still complicated, but I knew I couldn't leave without bidding him a proper farewell. His head suddenly jerked up as he sensed my dainty footsteps. He turned to face me, his eyes fleetingly wide, and then his expression softened as his lips formed a faint smile.

"Hey," I acknowledged him, an unidentifiable twinge in my voice.

Paul's eyes darted down as he bit his lip. He appeared to be seriously contemplating something, as if he were still trying to wrap his head around everything that was transpiring.

"Hey..." he murmured dismally.

"I just came to say goodbye..." I explained huskily, attempting to swallow the lump in my throat.

"You know, I meant what I said..." Paul expressed in a strangely urgent tone.

My eyes widened as I looked up at him in confusion.

"I don't want to live a life without you in it..." he clarified as we locked eyes and his voice broke.

 _Poor Paul._ I found myself thinking. All this time, he had been trying desperately to prevent this very thing from happening. He didn't want someone who would leave him like Jane always did. But this deathly fear of losing me ended up being the main thing that drove me away.

Holding back tears, I instinctively placed my hand on his. "You won't," I reassured him. "I'll be back someday, when I have everything figured out..."

"Someday soon, I hope?" he looked expectantly up at me with his trembling puppy dog eyes.

I chuckled softly at the sight, "We'll see..."

With that, we both smiled and embraced each other tenderly.

***

Next, I went over to where George and Ringo were seated by the drum set. George immediately pulled me in for a hug, upon seeing me, beaming radiantly.

"Gail, I'm so proud of you!" he bit his lip as he looked at me and smiled meekly.

I could barely respond, as I was still feeling stupefied, so I just crinkled my face with heartfelt appreciation and returned the tight hug. If it wasn't for George, I wouldn't have gotten the push I needed to get over my fears. I would always be eternally thankful for the simple but meaningful kinship I had with him.

"Zak's gonna be lost without his favorite babysitter!" Ringo remarked with a sorrowful grin.

I laughed at what I assume was a joke and pulled him in for our own hug. "Bye, Ringo!"

"Bye, dear..." he replied warmly.

"And cheers to you, George," I said, turning back towards him. "Thank you for everything!"

George nodded stoically, "It was no problem..."

"It's been amazing, Gail. Do write to us, won't you?" Ringo glimmered.

"Of course!" I chuckled.

Man, all this felt so nice. But virtually _nothing_ could emotionally or mentally prepare me for my final adieu...

***

John was just in the next room. My heart was fluttering out of control and I almost contemplated fleeing again. Alas, hard as it may be, I had to do what I had to do.

He immediately noticed me coming in, as per usual, smiling a heart-rending smile.

"So, you're gonna be a big-shot writer, eh?" he smirked, chortling softly.

I simpered, "Something like that..."

"Heh, well knock 'em dead, love! I'm sure there's a fuckin' masterpiece just waiting to bleed out 'yer little fingers!" he heartened brightly.

I beamed. John had encouraged me to follow my writing dreams from the beginning; I wondered if he slightly regretted it now.

"You're gonna do great, Abbie..." John expressed in a gentler tone.

I gazed attentively at him, my eyes never leaving his unique features. "Well, you know, John, I wouldn't be taking this step if it wasn't for you. You showed me that I can aspire to be whatever I want, no matter how crazy. I mean, you're living proof!" I gestured to him enthusiastically.

John shook his head briskly, "Ah, I'm no big-shot. You're gonna end up going way farther than me..."

"Well, I have you to thank for that..." I reflected.

"Heh, yeah, a lot of good _my_ words did! Now you're off and bloody bolting out the door! Chasing your dreams straight out of me life!" he bemoaned in frustration.

We both paused, taking in the reality of the situation.

I took a few measurable steps towards him, "John, you know this isn't goodbye, right? I mean, it _is_ goodbye but...not forever..."

"It might as well be," John croaked. "Every minute I'm without you feels like a fuckin' eternity..."

I snickered, "Oh, come on. We both know I was a total nuisance most of the time!"

"Well, that's true..." John nodded and half-smiled. As he nodded, however, his face quickly dropped as the tears began to fall down his cheeks. He hastily rubbed his eye, "Goddamnit..."

My eyes widened in panic, "John, no! What are you doing!?"

"Damnit, I'm acting like Paulie. Abbie, please don't leave me..." John begged in despair.

"A-haw, look at 'ol Johnny going soft..." I chuckled sadly as I wiped a tear from his face.

John narrowed his eyes and grinned, "You're such a pain in my ass, you know that..?"

I looked deeply into his eyes, "John, I..."

His eyes widened like a child, eagerly awaiting what I was about to say. I know what I _wanted_ to say. I wanted to say that I loved the way he performed, the way his emotions poured into every song he sang. I loved the fact that, even though he was closed off, he still wore his heart on his sleeve. I loved... I...

"I...I know," I bleated weakly. In a rush, I found myself squeezing him with all of my might, the warmth of his body against mine undoing me into an emotional frenzy.

"Goodbye, John..." I spoke through the tightness in my throat.

"Until next time, Abbie," he corrected me. "Whenever that is..."

***

Everything was all set up. This was it. Everyone was all lined up in a row to observe my departure. I looked out to the bleakly-faced horde of people staring back at me.

"Well, it's been real, guys. I'll remember you all fondly as I embark on my future endeavors..." I stated bittersweetly. "I guess I'll just be heading out now..."

"Don't go Gail, we'll miss you!" Ringo cried.

"...Damnit, Ringo! I was doing so well!" I whimpered as I sniffled and wiped my eye miserably.

As soon as one tear fell, I completely lost it. I broke down and started sobbing hysterically. I had tried so hard to be strong all this time, so as to make my goodbyes less painful for everyone. Alas, I knew it was no use. Everyone quickly gathered around to give me a hearty group hug.

After I calmed down a bit, I knew it was time. I took one last scan of the crowd. Neil, Mal, Mr. Smith, Mr. Martin, Brian, Ringo, George, Paul and John.

The latter two walked me out the door, as sullen and teary-eyed as ever. I gave Paul a quick final hug to which he responded compassionately. I then clutched onto John again, wishing desolately that I didn't have to let go.

"That song I told you I wrote is on the new album," he whispered sweetly in my ear. "It's not _Girl_ , you'll know it when you hear it..."

I nodded and gave them both an anxious concluding smile as I proceeded to step across Abbey Road. I always found it funny that the road had my name and, interestingly enough, it would be the title of an amazing Beatles record down the line. It wouldn't be the last time I would see the boys -- the _men_ \-- but it would be the last time they saw me as they knew me in this moment. I was no longer Gail, the frail soul, the girl merely torn between two Beatles.

Paul and John looked at each other tearfully, holding each other for support.

"Well, she's got a ticket to ride now, Macca..." John remarked with a wry smile.

"That she does, John, that she does..." Paul replied with a soft chuckle.

***

As I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder for a brief moment if I truly _was_ a bitch for leaving; perhaps I _was_ being selfish. But I knew I needed to go my own way in order to find myself. All my life, I was scared to stand up to my father. I was scared to be my own person. Now, I could finally live my life on my own terms, free as a bird, without anyone dissuading me or hovering over my shoulder.

I thought about Paul. In a way, I was leaving because of him; his actions deeply scarred me and I knew seeing him with Jane would be too much to bear. The atmosphere at the studio was becoming increasingly toxic. If I had stayed any longer, I most likely would have come between the sacred partnership of John and Paul. And worse, I would have come between John and Cynthia.

When it came to John, at first, I wasn't entirely sure what everyone saw in him. He struck me as just a plain jerk, unaffected, uncaring towards the feelings of others. But through it all, even in his darkest, most unspeakable moments, I saw how much Paul loved him, how much Cynthia loved him, and I knew it all had to be for a reason.

When the new album finally came out, I instantly knew the song John had been referring to. It was called _In My Life_ , and I may have bawled uncontrollably for days on end after listening to it. It was easily the most beautiful song I had ever heard. No matter what happened, no matter where I ended up in the future, I knew I was blessed to have been in the presence of all four Beatles. Especially John Lennon.


	16. Epilogue

A lot happened in the years that followed. Among other things, I met a wonderful man who I fell in love with. My relationship with my dad eventually improved but I never went back to live with him. Astonishingly, I did manage to get something published. John bought the very first copy of my book.

Brian Epstein, my former boss, one of the very first men to ever believe in me, tragically died of an overdose at only 32. This caused a great deal of distress and upheaval within the band, some of which I witnessed first-hand, and it was one of the many things that led to their eventual break up. 

I kept contact with John for a while after I left, writing back and forth, the occasional phone call, all that good stuff. But all communication abruptly ceased after he met and got involved with his future wife, an avant-garde artist named Yoko Ono. I still vividly remember the last time I visited him at the studio. I didn't make it past the door because Yoko had blocked it, and when I caught a glimpse of his dead eyes, I knew it was over.

When John was assassinated on December 8, 1980, I was heartbroken beyond words. Positively devastated. It was then that I reached out to Paul and he invited me to his house in East Sussex. He married a lovely lady named Linda who I quickly made friends with. We all laughed, talked and reminisced on old times over a quaint vegetarian dinner. 

At one point, while Linda was doing the dishes, Paul took me aside to speak with me privately. 

He looked solemnly at me, "I really miss him..."

"Me too..." I nodded.

"...Gail, do you remember way back when we were seeing each other and then you just so happened to walk in on me and Jane?" Paul recalled after a moment of silence. 

"Um, yes..." I replied, unsure as to why he would bring this up now.

Paul winced and shook his head, "I was weak, foolish and immature in those days. But I'm still glad I backed off from you. John loved you more than anything..."

At that, I began to cry softly. I looked up and saw that Paul was crying too. As we locked eyes with each other, we both knew. He wouldn't change a thing that happened between us and neither would I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off, I intentionally kept the epilogue vague and left certain details out b̶̶̶e̶̶̶c̶̶̶a̶̶̶u̶̶̶s̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶a̶̶̶l̶̶̶l̶̶̶ ̶̶̶o̶̶̶f̶̶̶ ̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶i̶̶̶s̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶i̶̶̶l̶̶̶l̶̶̶ ̶̶̶b̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶c̶̶̶o̶̶̶v̶̶̶e̶̶̶r̶̶̶e̶̶̶d̶̶̶ ̶̶̶i̶̶̶n̶̶̶ ̶̶̶g̶̶̶r̶̶̶e̶̶̶a̶̶̶t̶̶̶e̶̶̶r̶̶̶ ̶̶̶d̶̶̶e̶̶̶p̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶ ̶̶̶i̶̶̶n̶̶̶ ̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶s̶̶̶e̶̶̶q̶̶̶u̶̶̶e̶̶̶l̶̶̶.̶̶̶ COUGH. WHAT SEQUEL!? WHAT!?!? THERE'S NO SEQUEL! COUGH. 
> 
> I'd love to hear your feedback on what you thought of this story! What did you love? What did you hate? I know this was more of a realistic ending as opposed to a happily ever after ending, but hopefully it still gave you all the right feels! 
> 
> Writing this story was personally a rather bizarre experience for me. I started out wanting to explore the darker sides of Paul, and he proved to be way harder to write than I had anticipated. I know he came off as kind of a jerk-off in this story, but I'm ultimately happy with the way I characterized him here. 
> 
> On the flip side, I found that it was surprisingly easy for me to channel John. And here's where the bizarre part comes in: all my life, I've been a Paul girl, but while writing this story, I slowly but surely transitioned into a John girl! Don't worry, though, it's still kinda 50/50! 
> 
> What did you guys think of Gail? I didn't like her very much when I first started writing but eventually I fell in love with her! I can understand if some of you don't like her, though, as she can sometimes be a bit of a brat. This story was very much Gail's journey, if you couldn't already tell. I really enjoyed developing her character and writing her "transition" from one Beatle to the other. 
> 
> Speaking of which, Gail was originally supposed to end up with Paul, but those plans were quickly abolished once I wrote Chapter 3. John and Gail were just too perfect and adorable to leave alone. =^_^=
> 
> I know the writing was patchy in some parts and it didn't always flow very nicely. Sometimes it was a struggle to write everything out exactly as I had envisioned it in my head; I don't know if some of these scenes packed the punch that I truly wanted them to. I'll most likely eventually go back and rewrite some parts but, overall, I probably wouldn't change too much. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I don't want to influence your opinions too much, so enough of my blabbing! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, vote and comment, especially those who voted on every chapter. And also a special thanks to and missraccoon1984 and PauliePie, whose stories were the main inspiration for this fic. This fandom is homey, like a family, and our love for the Beatles bonds us. You're all wonderful human beings! Cheers! ♥


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